She Walks in Beauty
by one mourning dove
Summary: A Hades and Persephone story.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own, and did notoriginateany of the following characters or settings or plots. The first of the two poems can be credited to Lord George Gordon Byron (part of the first stanza of, "She Walks in Beauty"), and the second to Lord Alfred Tennyson (the last stanza of, "Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal"). The particular plot details are subject to controversy, as the myth is, well, really really old, and has been told and retold for thousands of years.

-1

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes of starry skies;

And all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes

Chapter 1

It is said that the soul recognizes its death when it comes, it is also said that love at first sight exists; that soul mates share an instant awareness of each other. But have they ever happened at the same time, has any soul ever met its match and its end in the same instant?

The day I was stolen from the earth was entirely unremarkable, almost too unremarkable in retrospect, as if all matters of the mysterious and unexplainable moved aside for a whole day because something decidedly more unexplainable was about to transpire. The sun shone blissfully on the scene below it; I was dancing with the narcissus flowers, careful not to step on any of those proud and smiling faces. They would not meet their death in the constant spring we enjoyed, and I would not be the cause of such an untimely passing. I let the breeze twirl my hair this way and that, enjoying the almost human feel of its invisible fingers. It was something I longed for; the touch of another person. The nymphs I played with would touch as in a game of chase, but strictly in jest-- just playing. They were flighty creatures, and that was what drove me to stray from their number. I simply wanted to have a moment where I felt that only reason no one would really be with me, was because there was absolutely no one there. No one but the wind and the flowers; the sky and the earth; the calm of my thoughts and the flutter of my own heart.

That is not to say that I was neglected. Certainly not. Not with a mother like mine; my mother had time to tend to all the crops in the nation, guard the sanctity of marriage and keep an eye so close on me, that I almost always felt like I was being followed. My mother is Demeter, goddess divine, everyone bow straight away. I will be the first to testify to my mother's importance, without her all humankind would suffer an eternal stretch of barren starvation. So to offend her would be a capital offence that could ruin not only you, but your family, village or city. As a result people tip-toed around her, got close but not too close, this rule applied specially to me. My suitors were carefully examined and unequivocally turned away, all of them being ruled too much of one thing and not enough of another. I knew she had no intention of letting me marry, or even talk to anyone for that matter; so I longed for it even more. But I was the maiden goddess, seen only as an extension of my mother, the lesser half of "the two goddesses".

These thoughts were interrupted however, when I tripped in a slight dip in the earth. Broken out of my not-so-pleasant reverie, I noticed something new on the air. There was the usual airy smell of grass and flowers, but there was something else mingled among them; it was comforting like the smell of damp earth, sandalwood and dying embers in a fire. But it was cold like a draft that suddenly rekindles the mind, it was cruel like the metallic taste of blood, and yet somehow it was totally irresistible.

This was something entirely new, and without thinking, I let myself become wrapped up in it. I whirled around in circles, feeling the rise of my hem fluttering around my slim ankles, then my knees. My hair was tossed upwards, my arms lifted to follow it and I received all of these feelings with the tilt of my chin and a small smile at the corners of my mouth. I began to dance, slowly at first with just my arms making snake-like undulations above my head, they floated down to my shoulders then my waist and hips and back up again, tracing over every delicate curve as if my body belonged to someone else. The wind picked up stronger this time, and I gave myself over to it. Moments like these were rare and I wanted to savor this one as long as I could, or at least until someone came looking for me. My head fell back and I shut my eyes; everything was black here, behind my eyes. I was vaguely frightened, but all my good sense was swept away by this wind that captivated me. My good sense might have told me that something was wrong here, that this was not just any wind and not just material from daydreams suddenly manifested.

The sense of complete happiness stayed with me as long as the breeze did. When it stopped, I felt a hole in my chest begin to dig itself, and fill with empty space that should have been filled with that glorious feeling from a moment before. Stricken, I looked around, and saw to my surprise that, where a second earlier it had not existed, there was a vine growing out of the dirt. It was the loveliest vine I had ever seen; it was supported by nothing in particular, and on its thin stems there were blossoms of the deepest crimson, fading into a vibrant purple, and then white in the very center. They were wider than morning glories, and deeper; and they had the firmness of lilies, but with more petals. Their scent was intoxicatingly sweet, too sweet. I leaned away and took a fresh breath of air to clear my nose and head.

I plopped down next to the vine and played with the edge of my dress. The flowers were so beautiful, but I didn't want to pick them. Not because I didn't want them, but because I always had the feeling that it was wrong to pluck a living thing from its home like that. I loved to admire them, but when they were in a vase, all I could do was sit and watch them die. But these flowers were so beautiful. I had to pick one, just one. I would tuck it into my hair.

So I plucked the flower.

There: no harm, no foul. At least that was the way it was before the earth started quaking beneath my legs. A few feet off, the ground cracked and split from the violent tremors. Giant rocks and spikes of earth jutted out at every angle, and a sound like a stampede of horses erupted from the center of the quake. I made to scream, but the sound got caught in my throat, sheer terror squeezing it shut it. My body was paralyzed in fear as well, and my eyes were stuck wide open. I saw two, then four jet black horses emerge from underground. Snorting, and foaming with effort, they pulled a grim and fearsome looking chariot out in to the open. The sky had turned dark in witnessing this trespass, storm clouds churned overhead, creating an artificial night. Bits of rock and clay and dirt flew in to my hair and pelted the rest of my body. So I threw my

arms over my head and tried to wait for the end of this madness. But it never came. I heard the thundering sound of hooves near me, then farther away. I chanced a look up, but when I looked I wished I hadn't, because the chariot was circling back around and was headed straight toward me.

With a rush of adrenaline, I scrambled to my hands and knees, then my feet, trying to make an escape. But it was no use, my heel slipped from underneath me and I fell to the ground with a jarring crash that sent pain shooting up my left ankle and leg. I flipped over onto my backside and tried a sort-of backwards crawl; anything to save myself from getting trampled into unrecognizable flesh-colored mush. My thoughts were frantic, jumping from one bit of confusion to the next, wondering how in the world this happened, what was happening, why, and would I ever find out? The chariot seemed to be growing as it hurtled toward me, I looked up at its growing size and:

Time Stopped.

I gasped. I had found the face of the driver, and our eyes locked. Boring into mine, was a pair of sharp gray eyes. In that instant I knew what was happening: I had to go with him. _He_ was the earth and the sandalwood and embers, _he_ was the draft and the blood, _he_ was the breeze and the vine…

The flash of the moment was gone, and he stood full and tall at the reins of his chariot with a ferocious look on his face that made him a terrifying sight. But he seemed to know me; he seemed to have been waiting for me. The chariot was almost on top of me now, and in spite of my attempts at escape, I reached my arm out to him, letting my instincts guide me. I looked up again, pleading with my eyes to let this not be my last moment, but as I did I felt that my arm had been seized up. The side of the chariot was inches from my face, then another arm slid around my rib cage and lifted me the rest of the way up into my speeding conveyance. My captor held me none-too-gently against the broad expanse of his chest with one arm and drove with the other. As if I would escape. The only thing that I felt was immense relief, relief that I had not died. All other feelings were blocked out, there was nothing but consuming and overwhelming relief. In my gut, I knew that there would be time for confusion and fear later, but now… now I would pass out.


	2. Chapter 2

-1Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,  
And slips into the bosom of the lake:  
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip  
Into my bosom and be lost in me.

Chapter 2

I remember the first time I saw her, during one of my few appearances in the great hall of Olympus. I later learned that it was the only visit she had ever made to the pantheon, no doubt because of that mother of hers. She was astonishingly beautiful. Her hair was a rich shade of auburn done up and tied close with a light blue ribbon that matched her gown. She had a high forehead that lead down to a lovely, curved nose, which separated her even, almond-shaped eyes. Her mouth was small but full, the color of garnets. She had a graceful jaw line, with delicate cheek bones and slightly hollowed cheeks, which lent her a look of intelligence rather than the air-headed simpering look of most of the mortal young ladies I had seen, though they were few. While they were alive, that is.

Her body was something to be celebrated; the line of her neck and throat draped down into elegant shoulders and a finely shaped collar bone, just visible above the modest neck line of her gown; her bust was well-formed and gave way to a small waist and slim hips. The gown she wore tied at the tops of her shoulders, showing lithe arms that looked capable of lifting more than just a serving pitcher of water without snapping. I studied her face and form from across the hall, and I do not think she noticed me. It was her debut as a young goddess, but she was not paying the least bit of attention to the stares and appraisals of others. She sat demurely enough, at least while her mother was looking. Other times she would try to charm butterflies into her hands, and they would come right to her; perch their colorful bodies onto her outstretched hand. After an especially large and beautiful butterfly had settled on her hand, she decided to let it go into the crowd of gods and goddesses. The creature flew in zigzags between the guests until it flew right up to my face, paused, and brushed its wings against my cheek as it continued by. I felt for one electrifying moment, as if it was her touch on my face instead of the butterfly. Flustered, I melted into my surroundings before my own bright butterfly would see the blush that had risen up under my skin. Had I really just thought that; had I really been affected, and even moved by a silly girl and her penchant for butterfly taming?

I left her debut without ever introducing myself. But because I do not usually attend in the first place, it was considered a compliment that I even left my duties to make an appearance. I do not find the company of my brothers and sisters to be at all satisfactory, in fact it is on the contrary. Each one of them is more vain and superficial than the next (with the exception of only a few), their constant chatter and dithering was distasteful to me. I knew however, that my icy social skills had little to do with my early departure on this particular occasion. It was her. I was the God of the Underworld, fearsome to behold. A being whose name mortals would not dare utter, lest they incur my wrath. For centuries I guarded, and ultimately judged every soul that had enjoyed, or squandered a human life. I became angry, furious that this girl could affect me so. Had I not suffered and worked to become what I am? A warrior, unfeeling and strong with a life in which passion and sentiment only meant weakness. My duty was everything, and I knew that desire only clouded judgment. I stormed back to the underworld that night, incensed and infuriated because of this sudden flaw, this veneration for some girl I had never even spoken to. Upon entering the plane of asphodel, with all its soothing and familiar gray tones… I blew up the first shade I saw.

Over the next several days I endeavored to forget her. But something kept springing up in my memory: her eyes. They were by far her most entrancing and striking feature. So when I spent hours staring at her through an opening in the world near where she played, I told myself that it was because I was investigating what made her eyes so unusual. Each day I watched her, I felt as if I were getting closer to something or reaching a breaking point and every step she took on the soft grass above was a step that brought me closer to that point. Until one day it clicked, some tiny bit of a revelation made itself known to me. Her eyes were what made her so different; well, not just her eyes, but what they revealed of her inside. Then other subtle things came to my attention, and I wondered why I had not seen it earlier.

Her mother, Demeter, was the Goddess of the Harvest; she was the embodiment of the earth's bounty. Her hair was a light brown, long and unruly; her figure was rounded and full--ripe, in a sense, and her eyes were glassy blue like the bright afternoon sky. She was beautiful in her own right, but she was all daylight and mother-of-the-earth, not something I was interested in. Her daughter, I came to learn, was not all that she seemed at first. Her hair, was a darker, redder shade than her mother's, wavy but smooth and flowing; her figure was rounded, but not plump or full, it was slender and seductive, and her eyes were a luminescent, twinkling silver. She was a child of the daylight, but though her countenance and form held all the beauty and lightness of the day, her eyes reflected the night. She could have a place in the night. With me.

As that last thought crossed my mind, my jaw fell slack. And I realized that I needed her. I needed her in spite of my better judgment, in spite of my infuriation and misgivings. Already she was in my blood, and my lungs, and had been in my head since the first time I saw her. I longed to have her beneath my fingers; to touch her; to pick her apart and consume her in pieces until I was filled with nothing but her. I was hungry for her and, by my own river Styx, she would feel the same way about me.


	3. Chapter 3

Poem by Robert Frost (last two stanzas of "Acquainted With the Night")

...But not to call me back or say good-bye;  
And further still at an unearthly height,  
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.  
I have been one acquainted with the night.

Chapter 3

I felt her body go limp against mine when she fainted. Being mindful of her loose appendages and lolling head, I carried her out of the chariot and down to the bank of the river, where I knew Charon would appear. The old ferryman steered his small boat up onto to the gravelly beach and waited for his toll to be paid with an outstretched hand. I stepped out of the fog, holding my still unconscious parcel. Charon bowed his skeletal form extra low in penance for his misperception, but as he rose there was the slightest hint of an insolent smile on his twisted old lips. Words and fetid breath escaped his mouth: "Hand delivery, eh?". I shot him a look that was at first angry, then weary. "She is not dead, merely unconscious.". "Oh?", he cackled, "A live one then…". Charon's words trailed off; he knew better than to tempt me to give him a quick shove into the murky waters he sailed, with whatever errant theory he would suggest about the curiosity I had brought down to the land of the dead, alive no less.

We passed shades gathering on the banks of the lake, unburied souls; past the river Lethe and the crowds that gathered there, waiting to choose their next lot if they had the luxury. Through the dreary gray plane of asphodel where acquainted souls compared tales and waited to be judged; further, to the crossroads after judgment. I began to walk down the rightward path, toward the Elysian Fields and my palace, when she stirred in my arms. "Persephone…" I breathed, with more concern than I cared to admit. She blinked several times and tried to sit up. I let her legs down first, then her upper body, still keeping one arm around her shoulders. Her eyes remained hooded, and her speech was slow and slurred, "What…? Where am I?"

How to answer this… _Well, you have just been abducted from the only home you have ever known, to come to the underworld, home of all dead souls and worse, to be subject to my strange and consuming need for you_… That would be a dizzying, albeit honest, answer to that complicated question. Instead I started, "You are…here…you are safe." I finished lamely. But in her dazed state, that answer seemed to satisfy her. She took a step forward and stumbled back in to me. Something was wrong with her ankle; she reached down to hold it because of the pain, however it did nothing for her balance and she went barreling toward the ground. Lightning quick, I dropped to one knee and caught her before she broke or bruised something else. Gathering her up again, I walked slowly toward my palace.

Before I brought Persephone to live in my palace, I had her own chambers prepared for her. It was a capacious room, with a high ceiling that was domed in the middle. I hoped to give her as much space as possible, to imitate the vastness of the fields I knew she loved. I entered the room and moved toward the bed. The poor girl in my arms began to squirm, as in a bad dream. When I looked down into her face I saw that she did indeed seem to be asleep, but the closer I got to the bed, the more frantic her movements were. I took a step back and glanced over at the bed, which was standing there, perfectly innocent. Innocent. _Ah, I understand, she's already afraid of me and what I might do. Not even conscious yet, not even realizing where she is, she is afraid of being alone with me and a bed. Not that her fears were misplaced. _I sighed, pulled back the sheets and laid her on the bed. Her ankle needed bandaging so I went to retrieve some gauze from one of the cabinets in her bath chamber. She was fast asleep when I got back to her bed, so I picked up her left ankle and began to wrap it. Around her foot, and over, and around her ankle, with the steadiness of a spinster I wove: around, over, around; around, over, around…

"Do you understand the seriousness of your request?", the voice boomed around the great hall. I looked up at the great glowing man in the throne in front of me, and I raised an eyebrow. My brother, God of the Heavens was asking me, the God of the Dead if I understood the seriousness of something. "Well, I know you do. But do you really think her mother would consent to such a match. Do you think she would send her daughter to live in…" He stumbled here, not wishing to offend. I remained silent, because he still had not given me an answer one way or the other. "I cannot _allow_ you to take Persephone in marriage, but perhaps you can still have her…".

While stealing her away from the earth was Zeus' suggestion, I had no qualms with it. I lacked finesse and tact when it came to courting women and impressing their mothers. One might think that being a god with infinite riches would be enough for anyone. But apparently not.

Her ankle and foot were now sufficiently wrapped, so I stood to leave. I turned and stole one last look at her. She looked just as beautiful as the first day I saw her, but now there was something else. She looked bruised, with small scratches and smudges of dirt all over her. Something new rose up in me, and it burned in my chest until I felt like I could not draw another breath. It ached so terribly I had to run from the room.

Once outside, I pressed my back against the cold marble wall and slid down it until I was a crumpled heap on the floor. Part of me wanted to go back and feel that ache again, and part of me was wishing that I had never seen this girl for all the turmoil she was causing my insides. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and exhaled. The burning began to subside, and I could breathe freely again.


	4. Chapter 4

Poem by Emily Dickinson (first stanza of "Because I Could Not Stop for Death")

Note: Remember that all REVIEWS are WELCOME.This statement applies to compliments criticisms and suggestions. I am still not entirely sure where I am going with this, or how it gets there...

Because I could not stop for Death—  
He kindly stopped for me—  
The Carriage held but just Ourselves—  
And Immortality.

Chapter 4

Everything was blurry when I tried to open my eyes. I blinked several times to regain focus; it felt like I had been drugged, or hit on the head with something very heavy. My body ached and when my eyes took in the light, my head ached as well. I groaned as I looked around. I had no idea where I was. The sick feeling of panic started to unfurl itself in my stomach. I jumped out of bed, and landed with a muffled shriek; pain seared through my ankle and my eyes watered. I looked down and saw that it had been bandaged, quite well too. While staring down at my ankle, I noticed the floor: it was a beautiful checker board of rose pink and black marble.

My breath caught in my throat as I took in the rest of the room. It was both longer and wider than any room I had stayed in, and decorated in a style grander than anything I could have imagined. To my left, my hand was still on it, was a magnificent four-poster bed made out of dark mahogany. I saw at once why it had hurt to get down from it; it was enormously tall. There was actually a small set of steps next to the bed, something I noted mentally for the benefit of my ankle. The bed was covered in the softest white sheets, and they were covered by a velvety blanket that was a mossy green color, with tiny pink flowers woven in. I ran my fingers over the delicate stitching, and looked at the rest of the room.

Standing in front of the bed, there was a fireplace with a pink marble hearth, and a mahogany mantle-piece with a ground level view of a meadow of flowers carved in it. There was a fire crackling in it now, but it reminded me vaguely of an animal chained to an alcove in the wall, domesticated and made to lay on a bed of wood only by force. The feeling sent a chill down my spine, and my gaze moved hurriedly on. To my right, there were two stately looking arm chairs, both a deep red plush, with a handsome lion claw table in between them. And on the wall behind the chairs, was a large tapestry that showed a pastoral scene: a young man fallen fast asleep on the grass, and the moon goddess Selene watching over him with the sadness of a lover who knows she can never be with the one she wants.

Past my bed, there was a door. I walked over to it, mindful of my ankle, and pulled on the glass knob. It was heavy, and required the force of all my weight to finally wrench it open. I walked in and found a bath room; the walls, floor and tub, were all one piece of polished, golden-yellow granite. I sat on the ledge of the tub and examined it, the inside was lined with white porcelain, and the taps were made of brushed silver, from what I could tell. The counter was made of a light rosewood to complement the granite; on it sat a pitcher and basin, a comb with an amber handle, and several other items.

As I walked out of the bathroom, I noticed an impressive cherry wood armoire standing in front of the corner to my left. I opened both of the doors, and my hands flew up to my mouth. The armoire was filled side to side with gowns of every cut and color. Some were deep gem tones, with draping bell sleeves; some were white and dove grays, with elegant three-quarter sleeves; and some were black like obsidian, with daring neck-lines and hems that would drag the floor on me. What I saw on the top shelf made me blush and panic at the same time. The top shelf contained all manners of sleep wear and undergarments. All were exquisite, but they all meant something.

I backed away from the armoire, my eyes widening in horror with each step. Whoever was responsible for this, the room, furnishings and especially the closet, intended for me to stay. Permanently.

I tripped on the edge of an area rug and fell to the floor, I didn't feel the pain of the impact because a memory was coming back to me now. The smell of sandalwood and other things, the flower preceding the sound of hooves. The driver, his eyes, and my abduction. I rocked back and forth on the floor, not willing to accept any of this. I shook my head and began to cry. I felt like I was a stupid little child again. Lost without her mother. Mother. She would be tearing the world apart looking for me. I immediately felt guilty for being so foolish. _Look where your longing and loneliness got you. And you think you can truly be alone, out of your mother's shadow you are a ridiculous girl who knows nothing about being independent…_

I cursed the man who brought me here. Wherever here was. I started to garner my courage, goaded on by my own criticizing thoughts. _I am not stupid, I just have to find a way out of here, that's all. _I rubbed the remaining tears off my cheeks and gingerly stood up.

I tried the main door of my room, but it wouldn't budge. I twisted and pulled until I thought my shoulders would become dislocated. So I had to pick the lock. I unfastened the pin at my shoulder that held my robe together. With one hand I held the place where the pin had been, and with the other I wheedled with the lock. I brought my ear closer and listened for those tell-tale clicks. I heard one. Click. Then another. Click. With the pin still in the lock, I turned the knob, and this time it opened. I quickly refastened the pin and peered out of the room down the hallway.

The halls were paved with cold white marble, and they seemed to go both ways forever. I chose the leftward direction, and tried to keep track of the number of doors I was passing, the number of steps I descended or ascended, but it was no use. The halls and stairs were labyrinthine, and I imagined that they were designed that way to keep things in. After what felt like hours of walking I reached what looked like an end to this maze. Ahead there was a large, semi-circle shaped veranda, with columns lining the perimeter and holding the roof above it. The place was quiet save the soft padding of my bare feet on the stone floor.

All the sudden, I heard the click of shoes on the floor, just outside the veranda. I froze. I looked around for a place to hide. I decided on the place behind the column closest to the wall. I scurried over, and slid behind the pillar just in time. I bit my lip to stifle a yelp. There was no wall on the other side of the columns, just the edge of the veranda like the edge of a cliff. There was about a foot or so of space for my feet so I hugged the pillar for dear life.

Two men walked out onto the veranda, conversing in low tones. I wedged myself in between the wall and the column to get a better look. The first man looked less like a man, and more like a haze of darkness. I stared a little longer, and squinted my eyes. I began to see, that in the haze, there was a darker silhouette in the shape of a man. His silhouette was filled with pure, black darkness. I recoiled slightly, but then the second man came into my view.

In my limited experience with men, I haven't the broadest sense of what is and isn't handsome. But the knot that formed and tightened in my stomach told me that this man was more than handsome. He had a tall, strong frame, with broad shoulders that narrowed down into his slim waist. Not much more could be said about his form, as it was concealed by a sweeping black cape, that blended with his black clothing. But for all the silence of description from his body, his face spoke volumes to make up for it. He had dark hair, with the front brushing almost over his eyes, and the back keeping closer to his head. His forehead sloped into a thin, straight nose, met on either side by high cheek bones and underlined by a well-defined jaw. His eyes had an unusual, slightly tilted shape, that was filled by a gray iris each. His skin was pale, compared to mine anyway, and the effect was striking. But his mouth held a sour expression that spoiled the rest of his face. I didn't understand how someone so handsome could look so disagreeable and unpleasant. The skin on his lips was so pale that it almost seemed to fade from his face, as if from disuse. But his mouth gained its rightful share of attention when he spoke. His teeth were the things that drew back the attention, in my opinion. The incisors were particularly pronounced and evenly placed. I got my first glimpse of them when he spoke.

At first I only heard snatches of their conversation. From it I gathered where I was: The Underworld. I almost laughed in hysteria: that would make my captor none other than Hades, great King of the Dead, the Rich One, Death. An upheaval of emotion loosed itself in my head. _The audacity! The absolute hypocrisy! The ruler of the Underworld famed for his infallible sense of justice has kidnapped me, for what reason I scarcely wish to imagine, from my home and my life, when I have done nothing wrong. I can't even die. I have no reason to be here! _At this break in my outrage, I heard him say to the dark one I gleaned was Thanatos, "…Search for her. I do not care how long it takes. She will not leave. She will not escape."

I sucked in my breath. Before I could control myself, my rage boiled over at these last statements. So I was a prisoner after all. _I will not be anyone's object. _On nights where I was daring enough, I dreamed of having my own independence, of being respected, and sometimes, of being loved. I strode out from my hiding place, shaking with anger,my fists balled at my sides. I shouted:

"Here I am, you disgusting thief!"


	5. Chapter 5

Poem by Robert Frost ("Fire and Ice")

Some say the world will end in fire;  
Some say in ice.  
From what I've tasted of desire  
I hold with those who favor fire.  
But if it had to perish twice,  
I think I know enough of hate  
To know that for destruction ice  
Is also great  
And would suffice.

Chapter 5

My words had certainly gotten their attention. Both heads snapped in my direction. Hades' eyes filled at first with confusion, then refilled with burning rage at being so addressed. Thanatos made a move toward me, as if to detain me and haul me back to my chambers, like some sort of escaped pet. "Do not touch her." he said. Hades was seething. I had no hope of his words being for my protection. I started to worry about what I had just gotten myself into. "Leave us!" he shouted. Thanatos made a fast exit from the veranda.

My fists were still balled up at my sides. I could feel my eyes narrowing and my head lifting in challenge. He advanced slowly, and I backed away to match. I stopped though, when my back bumped up against the wall. I had no where left to go, so I stood my ground. He was only a foot away from me now. "What did you call me?". He snarled.

I gave no thought to any of the different responses I could have chosen. I was still fuming about the way I was being treated; as if I weren't even there. I was tried of being invisible, ignorant, nice. The way girls are supposed to be. A new boldness coursed through my veins, fueled on by my convictions. So I told him, "I called you a disgusting thief.". I spat the last two words at him like a snake spits its poison.

His eyes widened even further. He reared back and brought his fist back in the same motion. He brought it crashing back as if to strike me. I winced in anticipation, but I heard it crunch against the wall right next to my ear. With that punch, he could have crushed my bones. I shook just a little. His breath came fast and shallow, and I could feel it on my face, only inches away. His eyes were digging in to mine the way they did the first time I saw him. He spoke in a low whisper, but we were close enough for me to hear his whisper as if he was yelling. It was a dangerous rumbling sound, "Do not ever call me a thief."

I said nothing. For the briefest instant, his eyes flicked lower, to my mouth. The pause became intense. He brought his other arm up and put it on the wall next to the other side of my face, pinning me between him and the marble at my back. Suddenly, I wasn't so sure of what I had meant to say. He canted his head, and closed the inches of space between our faces. Without touching the rest of my body, he just brushed his lips over mine. For one insane instant, I wished he would do more, wanted him to give me what I had never had. I began to loose myself again, the way I had lost myself in the wind that had stirred around me. New things were being offered to me, and I felt like I might take them. But then he whispered something onto my lips, "I did this for you…".

Abruptly, I snapped out of my hypnotized state. This was wrong, this was not the way it should be. What he was doing… it was supposed to mean love. All the motions, the tension, should have meant love. But love had no place here. Not when a second ago he looked like he would sooner throw me off the veranda than apologize for anything. Not after he stole me away from my home. He would be the last person I would love. Angry tears welled up in my eyes. I summoned all my strength, and delivered a hard elbow to his stomach.

As he doubled over in pain, completely out of breath, I ducked under his arms and ran from the room.


	6. Chapter 6

Poem by Emily Dickinson ("Hope is the Thing with Feathers")

Hope is the thing with feathers  
That perches in the soul,  
And sings the tune without the words,  
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;  
And sore must be the storm  
That could abash the little bird  
That kept so many warm.

Chapter 6

I sprinted as hard as I could in what I hoped was the direction back toward my room. I slowed only when I was sure I couldn't hear any foot steps chasing me down. Finally, I found my room. Grateful for a place that was at least a little familiar, I locked myself in and started to walk toward the fireplace, when a great pounding assaulted my door. As if I didn't know who it was. I called, "Who is it?", in the most ridiculous sing-song voice I could muster. From the other side of the door I could hear muffled grumblings of frustration. "You know very well who it is, Persephone." said the stern voice from the other side.

I continued in my sing-song voice, "Oh no sir, you must be mistaken. Persephone isn't here right now. But from what I've heard, she's a spring goddess who lives on the upper side of this crust roof. Maybe you should try there instead.". More grumbling from the other side. "Stop playing games and open this door!". He was getting very irritated by this time, but then again this had never been a game for me. In all seriousness I answered, "Sir, I would not play any game with you, least of all one that involves my life, which you have taken the liberty of turning upside-down; and now you expect me to let you in?".

I was leaning with my back against the door, and I began to slide down until I hit the floor. I was more tired than anything else, after all I had had a long day. My sentiments and emotions had been thrown around so many times, I could barely make sense of anything. I desperately wanted to go to sleep. I was in no mood to give anyone the benefit of the doubt, or to listen to any explanations. There was a small thump on the other side of the door, but I disregarded it, as there was nothing but silence that followed.

After a few moments against the door with my eyes closed, I mustered the motivation to get up, and I began to pace the length of my room. Thoughts were swirling around in my head, and I felt that if I didn't at least acknowledge them, they would burst out of my ears and mouth and nose, like actual physical things.

The thought of where I was, was becoming less of a shock, and when compared to its ruler, my current location became almost inconsequential. Hades. Pictures of him filled my head, they floated in front of my eyes, and were beginning to encroach themselves on my heart. Each image evoked a new feeling. I walked to the left side of the room. On one hand, I detested him. I could not stand the man who robbed me of all my life's ambitions by trapping me down here with him. I walked to the right side of the room. But on the other hand, there was a moment on the veranda where I could feel why he wanted me here. Deep down, seeds of hope planted, that made me start to believe that he _cared_ for me, the way I wished to be cared for. He had said, "I did this for you…". I think I wanted to love him. But how could I be sure what he wanted, and how could I trust him?

I stopped pacing and sighed. _Love was never even part of this. _I wrapped my arms around my rib cage, and tucked my chin under, onto my chest. I started to foster a tiny hope. A hope like the smallest bud of a flower was trying to take hold. It could be dashed stone dead with the slightest injury, but then again, the most resplendent of blossoms are the most fragile at first and sometimes come from the most volatile environments.

I laid down on the hearth rug in front of the fire. Had I not been so willful, I might have spent the night comfortably in bed. But I refused to accept what he had given me, sleeping in that bed would somehow mean that I accepted all this. I wouldn't. Not yet. The thought of a bed was too unnerving anyway. I kept thinking back to that moment when Hades brushed his lips across mine; so lightly that even in as I relived the memory, my chin tilted forward to receive it. It was a reflex, one of many I had yet to give in to. A chill fluttered down my spine and I began to blush. I tried to hurry the thoughts along, but the more I tried the more they persisted.

I rolled onto my back and concentrated on watching the rise and fall of my own breathing. But it was as inconsistent as ever. A semblance of hate, the beginning of love, a wave of anger and the discovery of desire, all compounded into one dream-filled sleep.

I hated the way she rejected me, and her attitude was insufferable. I was standing outside of her room, and I had just given up on trying to talk to her. My back made a small thump as it hit her door and I slid down its length. I smiled a small smile in spite of myself. She had fire, she had a spark that I could not see when she was above ground. It made me want her even more. Oh, but it infuriated me at the same time. No one speaks to me that way, and the few who have, do not say much of anything anymore. After another moment, I decided to get up, and I stalked off. I walked anywhere but to my room.

I avoided my room that night because I could not bear to sleep on my bed. To see it, would be to remind me of her, and all the things that could happen there. This afternoon was bad enough… She had made me furious, calling me a thief when she had no idea why I had brought her down here, she belonged in the dark. I could see in her eyes, that she was exactly what this place needed; a light that could not be put out by this place. I had wanted to scare her for her rash pretensions, to make her fear me the way she should have, the way everyone does. And I think she was a little afraid at first; but she went on and called me a thief again. She made me crazy, it took all my energy to connect with the wall and not her, though I do not think I would ever hurt her intentionally. And for all the restraint that took up, I needed so much more to stop myself once I looked down into her eyes and onto her face, and her mouth…I was almost shaking. She was so close, so willing; my breath had mixed with hers, I touched her lips with mine. If I had pressed my body anywhere on hers, if she had responded in any way, be it the softest noise, or the slightest pressure of her lips, my resolve would have been destroyed, and I knew that. But she saved both of us by knocking the wind out of me harder than I have felt since my days in battle. I reflected back on this not only with hunger, but with what I came to realize was affection…

_This is ridiculous. I do not feel like this. I needed her in a way that I understood from the beginning, the way that a man commonly needs a woman… But I felt it before with her, and it was starting to rear its head again; this feeling is different. _I grabbed the nearest vase in the hallway, and hurled it at the cold marble wall. The ceramic shattered into millions of tiny pieces, but the wall did not bend; it was cold, hard and unyielding. The way I should have been. But I knew it now. I felt the instant it changed. She both infuriated me and invigorated me. She was the bright butterfly who had come to me when I thought I could at last live without light. I loved her. And it hurt. I ran my hands through my hair, and sighed an exasperated sigh.

I went to one of the many rooms in my palace, and fell asleep in a chair in front of a fire. But before I closed my eyes I resolved that I would show her that I loved her. Despite everything that I had said before; despite what I would have to do, she would see that I am no monster, and that she belongs here, with me.


	7. Chapter 7

Poem by William Blake (first stanza of "Auguries of Innocence") For this chapter please assume that everyone is already familiar with spine-bound book, rather than only scrolls. Thank you. ;)

Also, please let me know if you like the direction of the story, or if you think its stinky, or still if you just have comments or suggestions. They are all welcome.

To see a World in a Grain of Sand  
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,  
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand  
And Eternity in an hour.

Chapter 7

_Oh my poor little girl…Where could she be? I have searched everywhere for her, through the forests and meadows, by the rivers and streams, and up to the mountains. She must have been kidnapped, for she would never run from me, I am her mother. Oh, I should have watched her more closely… _I had asked everyone I came across, if they had seen a beautiful young girl pass by, she was my daughter, I told them. Everyone had said no, they had not seen such a girl.

There was nothing left to do now. I would take my case to the highest of authorities, to Zeus on Mt. Olympus. I have avoided seeing Persephone's father for many years now. It was a sore spot for me, I was just another name on a list full of women and goddesses with illegitimate children. At least my daughter was a full goddess, not some filthy half-breed. I gave a little sniffle of haughty indignation, and made my way up to the great hall.

I must say, my reception was somewhat chilly, for a woman of my stature. When Zeus looked up to see who was being shown into the hall, his eyes got bulgy, like he had swallowed something rather too large without chewing first. "Hera…." he choked. "Heeeeera…". I never liked her much, always walking around like she owned the place… To my surprise, she walked in, "What is it dear, have you turned another maiden into a…", she looked at me, "…cow." She made a full circle and turned right back around, saying as she left, "You're on your own with this one."

I cleared my throat. "D-Demeter", he swallowed, "How nice to see you again. What brings you here to the pantheon?", he asked. I told him my story. He flushed and stammered that he had no idea where she could have gotten off to, maybe someone else would know. "I have asked everyone!", I screamed, "You're supposed to know these things, what kind of God are you?", I stamped my foot and screamed even louder.

But maybe that was a mistake, "I told you I have no idea, you insufferable woman. Get out!", he boomed. He yelled so loudly, that the gust of his breath knocked me over. _Well I have never been thus treated…_ I stormed out of the hall with as much dignity as I could muster. I was half way down from the heavens, when Helios stopped me.

"Forgive me madam, I could not help but overhear. I know what happened to your dearest and only daughter." he whispered the story into my ear.

"HE WHAT?", I screeched. _Oh the world would know my wrath, you can kick me around, lie to my face; oh that's fine…But you will all see what the consequences will be if my daughter is not returned to me…_

I slowly blinked the sleep from my eyes. Sleeping on the hearth last night had not been one of my best ideas, my body ached all over. I sat up, balancing my weight on the side of my hip. I stretched my arms out as wide as they would go, enjoying the feel of my muscles unlocking after a night of being clamped against my chest. I continued the stretch down my back, arching it inwards and outwards, listening for the pop of my spine. I curled forward languidly, like a cat and stretched out the rest of my body, feeling as if I had grown at least a foot since waking up. I stood up carefully and padded over to a large, full-length gilded mirror that was hanging on the wall near the fireplace.

I surveyed myself, and the results were not my best. My hair was matted and sticking out on one side, from the way I had slept, and the other had just plain gotten out of control, it retained some of the bits of earth it had acquired before I had been swept up by the chariot. My robe was tattered and smudged with dirt, when it used to be white. I sighed. _What a sight I must have looked yesterday, _I thought. I glanced over at the bathroom door that loomed to my left. _A bath would feel delicious. _

After a moment of struggle with the bathroom door, I entered. It was as beautiful as I remembered, everything in the room seemed to have a candlelight glow, from the color of the granite that made up the walls, tub and floor, to the warm shine of the wooden counter. As if I was expected, several white candles were lit on the corners of the tub, and on the counter sat two glass bottles with crystal cut stoppers. Each contained a thick liquid, one clear, the other an opaque, pearly white. I only assumed they were soaps for washing my hair and body. I silently thanked whoever had been so thoughtful, and shed my stained garment. The taps sat about a foot or two up on the wall, the thick neck of the faucet extended out over top so that one might enjoy a sort of waterfall. The tub itself began at the two walls that made up the back corner. The granite of those walls, continued down and melted into the triangle shape of the bath, and went right on to the floor. I twisted the left tap, and hot water came gushing out, I used the right tap to cool the temperature ever-so-slightly. I brought the two bottles, and the pitcher to the side of the tub, and stepped in. I held my breath as my body got used to the steaming water. _What a large tub, very comfortable; big enough for two, in fact…oh_. I submerged my whole head under the water, hoping that the thought I just had would stay above the surface.

I opened the first of the glass bottles, and began to wash my body with a cloth sitting on a rack by the tub. I methodically smoothed over my arms, shoulders, breasts, stomach, legs, and feet, inhaling the orange ginger smell of the soap. I wasn't shy at all about my body when I was alone, in truth, I delighted in the feel of my own skin, the tension of my muscles when I ran, or stretched. But _he_ made me feel like I was on fire, around him I was acutely aware of every nerve ending in my body. I shivered, even in the hot water.

I used the contents of the second bottle to scrub my hair, and scalp. I reached over the side of the tub and grabbed the pitcher, submerged it in the water and poured it over my head to rinse away all the suds. I felt all the dirt and grime flake off with the care of recent events. I emerged from the tub feeling renewed, and decided that after I dried off and dressed, I would try to find the library, and possibly a way out of this place.

Getting dressed turned out to be more difficult than it seemed at first. I opened the armoire again, this time knowing what to expect, but there were so many dresses, all different colors and lengths, I could hardly choose just one. Remembering my refusal to accept all this last night, I chose a gown that was simple, not so extravagant as some of the others. It was a dove gray, silk gown, with three-quarter sleeves and tiny silk buttons down the back. I slipped it on and found that the low scoop neck fell at a flattering length, rather than the too-modest gowns my mother always chose for me. I did up all the buttons and smoothed out the empire waist-line.

After about an hour's worth of searching, and getting completely lost within the maze of the palace, I found the library. I opened the door and closed it silently behind me. As I took in the room, my eyes widened, and my lips parted unconsciously in joy. I had never seen so many books together in one place.

It was a grand, square shaped room, with impossibly tall walls covered entirely in book shelves filled with tomes of every thickness and height. Marble bookends and miniature sculptures were thrust in at random intervals to mark off places, but otherwise, the line of books was interrupted only by a few wooden ladders, and the door I had come in through. The floor was covered in a thick Persian carpet corner to corner, it felt glorious against my bare feet after walking so long on marble. I ambled my way toward the center of the library where there was a clear spot through all the furniture. I turned a slow three-hundred and sixty degree circle: the floor was crowded with furniture, arranged in groups of twos, threes and fours were chairs of every variety. There were high, wing-backed crimson chairs, with their backs to forest green settees, who faced a group of chocolate brown over-stuffed couches, and many others. I walked over to the chocolate colored group, and ran my hand across the cloth, it was suede, my finger trails left the material a lighter color, I brushed it back in the opposite direction to turn it back. There was a gold colored ottoman in between these two, but between the others there were low coffee tables; long, dark tables that could hold many books spread out; and some were edged so close together that there was no room for anything in between them. Occasionally there was a tall writing desk, with a sloped surface, and a green glass lamp perched on top, like a bird of paradise escaped from one of these volumes. But it wasn't alone. The only light from the room came from the many oil lamps and candles dotting the room. Most of the oil lamps were covered with shades of light colors, some plain cream, and some with patterns. The candles were all massive, but had been burned down so that they were held in place by the collected drops of wax that ran down the sides of them. I gathered that many a night had been spent pouring over books and letters, eye brows furrowed in concentration, hands jotting notes here and there…

I reflected on the room, and its owner: this room is charming, and comfortable, but it implied a dedicated studiousness, and I had yet to see a room in this place that rivaled it in personality. I began to wonder about my captor, if he could have a room like this, and it is obviously to his liking as it has been well-used, he surely cannot be all bad. I smiled to myself, and started to search for a book that could be useful to me.

I began running my finger down a middle row of books, scanning for any title that looked promising. By the time I had gotten all the way back around, I had not found any titles that could prove useful. Determinedly, I tried up one more row, and still no luck. And now another, one more, until I had to stand on the upper most step on the ladder. My eyes began to strain from reading so many titles, and my head grew weary with focusing on only one subject. Had I been browsing, it would have been a pleasure to scour these shelves for the most fantastic titles, and stop here and there to pull one out to read later. But I was looking for something specific, and I had no idea how things were organized. _Ah, here. This one looks good, _Atlas of the Underworld: Dimensions Major and Minor. _It's just one row higher…If I could only stretch a little high--Ack! _A small yelp escaped my lips. I was startled when I felt a hand place itself on the small of my back. I turned around and was startled again, but for a different reason.

It was none other than Hades who had reached to steady me. "Can I help you reach something?" he asked. "Oh, uh, no thank you sir, I have it now." I wished I had sounded more collected. I could not help but notice the touch of his hands on mine, and on my back as he helped me off the ladder. Everywhere he touched seemed to tingle with excitement. Hoping he wouldn't notice how unsettled I was becoming, I apologized, "I am sorry for intruding, I only sought a certain text, which I have found, but I can put it back if you wish, I know this place belongs to you, I only wished to…" I wondered if it would be wise to divulge my purpose, so I continued to ramble in a most unbecoming way, "…well, you see, I have little opportunity in my home, to--to read and learn things that I would like to learn, but…", I was speaking more quickly now, and blinking more than I needed to. _Why won't he say something to let me know if he is indeed angry with me, instead I dangle out here like this, probably wasting words and breath…Fine then, I'm finished. _So I fell silent, and looked up at him, hoping to maintain a look of defiance that dared him to mock my speech. But instead, the look I think I gave him was one that said that someone should pull this conversation off of whatever path I was taking it in.

There was a shadow of a smile on his beautiful mouth, and I could not help but stare a little. "My Lady, you may use or read any book I have here.". He said, more gently than I could scarcely believe. "Thank you…", I returned, dumbfounded.

He stood with his hands behind his back, and his posture was impeccable. He was wearing a white tunic today, with black pants that fit in all the right places. I was so busy taking the sight of him in, that I almost missed what he was trying to tell me. As he spoke, he made no secret of looking me up and down:

"Persephone, I came here to find you, only to extend to you, an invitation to dine with me in three day's time. It will be a ball, of sorts. Formal. So dress for the occasion. I hope you will do me the honor of attending in my company."

"I would be happy to."

"I am glad."

"Well, Good day."

"Good day."

And that was theend of it. When he left me, I was still standing there with the same expression on my face. _What was that! Had I really just accepted an invitation to a ball with him! The man I have cursed for his deeds, and actually denounced for the way he treated me? Never mind that I was hopelessly attracted to him…But it all happened so fast…Oh I am in trouble…_


	8. Chapter 8

Poem by Elizabeth Barret Browning (first stanza of "How do I Love Thee?")

Many many thank yous to blackpen for the advice, and to Ruthie for the constant reviews, I love looking forward to them.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.  
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height  
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight  
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

Chapter 8

The next two days passed in a blur. Persephone had accepted my invitation, but that would not be the last time I spoke to her before the night of our dinner.

The fact that I had found in her in the library that first day had aroused my curiosity. I had known her to be intelligent, I would not have been so keenly interested if she was not so sharp, but I had never pictured her to be the kind to bury her face in book. I returned to the library the next day, not really expecting her to be there. But as it turned out, I was wrong on both counts. Not only was she there, she had the volume she retrieved yesterday spread wide open on a table and was leaning over it with a large magnifying glass, completely immersed. She had the book flipped open to a page with a detailed map on it, a map I immediately recognized to be one of my own domain. Her face was bent over the book, and her hair fell over her shoulders and onto the map, she looked the image of scholarly devotion.

I quietly walked over to her table on the far side of the library. She jumped a little when I greeted her. "Oh, sir, I did not see you.". I watched her for a moment, enjoying this new side of her. When she was fuming at me, she was fierce and demanding, but this side, who was maybe a little embarrassed at her behavior, was just as entertaining. I had gotten a taste of it yesterday when I extended my invitation. After getting over her surprise, she had looked at me like I was something to eat, a sentiment I returned, but then she got very nervous again as if she were surprised at herself. I enjoyed myself a moment longer, leaving her to squirm under my gaze. Finally I said, "Please, call me Hades, we have no need for formalities between us."

Her eyes had drifted downward, but at this they shot up again, this time staring directly into mine, "Thank you", she said, "I have been meaning to thank you also for the use of your library, it is a very charming room." I told her that it was no trouble at all, and a tense silence fell between us. She returned to the kneeling position on her chair that she had maintained before I spoke to her. Her eyes fanned out over the map, and she opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again. "Speak, please." I said, adding a gentler tone to the last word. I was used to giving commands not entreaties, I only hoped I had not come across too harsh this time. She began again, this time with her voice, "May I be so blunt as to tell you something you may not wish to hear?". She turned her face up to mine with a sheepish smile that dazzled me. "I think, my lady, you have already taken that liberty with me once already." She flushed, and I smiled to show that I no longer took offence at what had transpired two days earlier. After all, she had a point. "Well," she began, "I must confess that my original design in borrowing this book was to discover a way out of this place." She paused here, taking a moment to consider the map, "But I finally found the page that could answer my question, and I no longer wished to know. This place, this world of yours is so vast, and so complicated. I was overwhelmed by its size, and have spent most of last night and this morning pouring over its surface." This was not what I had expected her to say, but as she continued her enthusiasm for her topic grew, and with it, grew my hope that maybe she liked what she found.

"I hope you can understand my desire to leave, I am grateful for it only because it helped me find this wealth of new information. Other than that I have no use for it." My breath hitched in my throat, inwardly I urged her to go on, but now she fell silent. I reached back, pulled a chair toward the table and took a seat. I would have to wait for the words I longed to hear, but for now what she said was enough. I ran my fingers absently over the map, an idea had come to my head: "Persephone, would you like me to teach you about this place?". The question hung in the air, and both of us stared at it, she in shock and I, in apprehension.

"I would love nothing better." she replied warmly.

It is a rare occasion when I get the opportunity to expound on the multitudes of information I have stored away in my head. This place had become my passion, and until recently, my duties here have been my only passion. She took her seat again, and let me lean over the map, looking for a place to begin, and at the same time launching in to a defensive and self-righteous tirade about the beauty and poetry my world can hold. "…What most people do not, and will not see is that, while death is inevitable, it does not have to be a gaping black pit of despair. If you live a virtuous life, you will at the very least be granted a chance to prove yourself once more, or at least to enjoy another human life. You see, everything here is symbolic, and that is where the irony and poetry come to life. That in itself is ironic," I gave a short laugh to myself, but then reigned my self in. I took a deep breath and began to speak, but I was cut off. "I gathered from what I have read so far that the key to passing through life and into the Underworld is to understand that the darkness of death is not to be feared, instead, the deeds done out in the bright light of day should be feared at the time of judgment." Persephone had spoken words that made me admire her and respect her all at once.

I took another breath and plunged back into the conversation at hand. For hours, we took turns remarking on various locations on the map, she would ask me a question and I would answer. She learned it all so fast, instantly memorizing the ways through the Underworld, and making insightful comments on the functions of various institutions. She did not flinch when I began to explain the horrors of my world, or the process of the judgment of souls, instead, she flooded me with questions about what sorts of things would get you punished, or send you to a life of eternal bliss. I was only too happy to oblige all these questions, and continue on the subject she brought up with an enthusiasm I have not felt for years.

After several hours passing in this fashion, she asked me, "So tell me Hades, what is it like out there?". I looked up at her, she had her head propped up on the side of her arm, with both elbows on the table. She seemed to me at that moment, to be the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I wished more than anything to reach my hand out and touch the side of her face, or smooth a lock of her hair. But I did not. Instead I answered, "Sometimes it looks like the sky right before dawn, just as the stars are retreating for the morning; other times it looks like the sky just after then sun has set, a dusty shade of lilac. But really I cannot do it the justice it deserves." She sighed wistfully. "Would you like to see it?" I asked. "I would show it to you." She gave me another beautiful smile and said again, "I would love nothing better."

We both got up from the table and parted ways for the night. I did not sleep at all that night, my excitement was far too great. I could feel my hard exterior begin to crack around her, not in huge rifts, but in tiny chisel marks and hairline fractures. My head was buzzing with her, and I came to think that she could actually come to love me the way I had secretly hoped.

The second of the two days passed much in the same as the first, except that this time I beat her to the library. By the time she arrived, I had already selected several new texts for us to review. I had laid out everything from books on politics to geography and history. She walked in to the library, today wearing a pale yellow dress that flowed to about mid-calf and looked stunning on her. I beamed at her from across the room, she grinned a shy grin, but hurried over to the table with all the books. She gasped as she read all their titles and decided to open the book I had selected about history.

Again we spent the whole day, immersed in our subject. Sometimes she read passages from the text, sometimes I did, taking every opportunity to fill in my own stories when they fit. I was amazed at her range of expression, and each one attached me more strongly to her. She showed a tender concern for me when I told stories of the battle I, and my brothers and sisters had fought with the titans; she laughed when we spoke of some of the predicaments her father Zeus would get in and out of, and expressed mock indignation when I would take her turn reading a new story.

As the day wore on, the tone of our conversation grew more serious. I found that in studying the history of the Gods and Goddesses, it was difficult to avoid certain stories of abduction, which created small moments of awkwardness between Persephone and I. I wished at that moment to be able read her mind. I wanted to know how she felt about how she got here, about me, I cared more than I liked, and more than I was used to about what she thought about me, and besides, I hoped she was happy. I decided that eventually I would bring up the subject.

We were seated side by side today, the better to read from the same book. But in this position, I could do nothing now but marvel at the closeness we had established. Of course I knew that it was only because of the things we studied together, and not because of any acknowledged feeling for each other, but still, the informality with which we addressed each other was intoxicating. She was free to laugh, and to tease me; and I was free to ask her questions, and occasionally crack a smile. _I have to take advantage of this new openness. I have to ask her how she feels about being here with me, I have to know._

I placed my hand over the page we had been talking about. I turned to her, and said, "Tell me how you feel." I realized after I had said it, that it was a little vague. She did not laugh at my request, she could tell that it was more than I made it sound, she waited for me to say more. I tried one more time, "How do you feel about…this?" I motioned around to the rest of the library. I could not believe it. I mean I could believe it, I had no gift for words, especially not when they were important. My expertise lay primarily in concise, mono-syllabic replies, and now I was failing to ask Persephone a simple question. I was used to taking what I wanted, not asking what I wanted what it felt about being taken. But she was different, as much as I wanted her, I wanted to know how she felt.

I was distracted by my thoughts, so much so, that I missed the movement of her hand. She had reached over and placed her hand on top of mine. I stared at our hands. They were touching, and she had made it that way. A fire erupted in the pit of my stomach as I lifted my eyes to look at her. She had such a look in her eyes, an expression that displayed pure conflict. It was both troubled and sparkling at the same time; she spoke with a voice full of anguish, "Hades…" she looked down, then back up, this time her eyes shone with moisture, "…I have been such a fool…" With my other hand I reached up to touch her face the way I had wanted to all day. Tentatively, our fingers entwined, and we both turned to each other. She tilted her face up to me, and I bent mine down to her, I closed my eyes, scarcely believing this was true. Our lips got closer and closer, and I could feel the heat of her face against mine, our foreheads met, my lips grazed hers as they parted…

And the door banged open with a violent crash. Persephone and I flew apart, so fast I thought one or both of us would fall off of our chairs. A hurried looking messenger panted breathlessly in the doorway. "My…Lord" he panted, "…Where have…you…been?"

I was livid now. I stood so violently, my chair flipped on to its side. "What is the meaning of this!" I growled menacingly, my fury barely contained. If matter any smaller than imminent apocalypse was the reason for this intrusion, there would be Hades to pay for it.

The messenger Shade began to look nervous now, a look like a twitchy hare's had crept into his eyes, they began to shift side to side looking either for an escape or for means of defense against a coming attack. "Well?" I growled again. I began to see now that there was no good reason for my being sought after. The messenger started to mumble, "S-s-sir, y-you see, you w-w-were gone all-l d-d-d-day…"

"Do you mean to tell me that the only reason I have been summoned, is because I have been absent from my throne for more than a _few hours_?" I yelled, my voice growing louder and more furious as the question continued. "M-my Lord, I only meant to…" the messenger started--

"GET OUT!" I bellowed. I picked up a particularly large book that was laying on the table, and launched it at the messenger's head. To my disappointment, he scurried out of the way just in time, leaving the book to slam against the closing door.

I twisted back to look at Persephone, who let out a small giggle before she could stop it. I sighed in defeat, walked over to the door and escorted her back to her room.

I got back to my room and flopped backwards onto my bed. _Could anything possibly favor me?_ I rolled over and punched my fist against a wayward pillow. _I had been so close. We had been so close. _I still ached all over from the tension of our moment together. I could feel what it did to improve my love for her, but it also fueled the flame of a different ache. My body burned with discontentment from being so unjustly robbed. I wondered how Persephone was right then, I wondered what she was thinking, and that night I fell asleep dreaming dreams of pale yellow butterflies.

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	9. Chapter 9

Poem by Edgar Allen Poe (first stanza of "A Dream Within A Dream")

Sorry about the wait this time :( But tell me what you think!

Take this kiss upon the brow!  
And, in parting from you now,  
Thus much let me avow  
You are not wrong, who deem  
That my days have been a dream…

Chapter 9

I opened my eyes. It was like I was home again, but something was different here. I was in a vast meadow, the sky boasted a beautiful azure color with mild clouds drifting by. A breeze tickled at my sides and pulled at the wildflowers in the ground. I stood nearest a poplar tree. I recognized its smooth and slender trunk, but its bark was not the paper white I remembered. It was a charred black all around. I looked up. In a flash, everything was reversed. The breeze blew in the opposite direction, all the colors were inverted. The blue sky turned a fiery orange with ominous black clouds, the grass blew deep crimson in the wind and flowers that had been purple turned a lilting yellow, red flowers turned vivid green. In this negative world, everything seemed much darker. I held my hands out in front of me. My white skin had turned midnight black. My skin and hair had been reversed, my hair was now a pale shade of sea-green like the sirens my mother had told me about. A pond began to leak up out of the ground in front of the poplars. The water was a shivering silver that bubbled calmly as it filled a perfect circle just large enough for me to peer in and see my reflection. I gasped, my eyes were still a perfect shade of gray, standing in contrast to my newly black skin, like two silver stars in the heavens. They remained the same either way, being in the exact middle, balancing precariously between light and dark. I panicked. I looked into my own eyes, and had no control over them, they darted wildly around the scene, the meadow shifted to a cave, dank and brown with stalactites and stalagmites leering like teeth. I pressed my hands up to my face, crying out in fear. I tried to cover my eyes, but invisible hands held them fast. The scene moved again, to a beach, then a mountain top. New visions swirled around me as I remained stationary, on my knees bent toward the ground and trying not to see, but my eyes pressed open so wide that my face might tear at any second. The whirlwind of images bore down on me, creating an unbearable weight.

All the scenes I had once thought so beautiful, now seemed to threaten me, they spun around me in a circle that grew tighter and tighter, and faster and faster. I wanted to stand, to scream, to run; anything that would have made this stop. My body at that moment, was made of marble, rigid and unmoving, with my mind trapped inside. I grew more panicked as I realized my paralysis. The images raced around so fast they were now just a blur of color, they circled closer now, and closer until they were right on top of me. My skull began to crack under the pressure, my immobile limbs pulled away from the rest of my body, dislocating themselves, my ribs caved inwards. I was being pulled in every direction, pressed from all sides. The pain clouded my vision, so that now I was entirely blind. I would have cried, but now I was beyond that, beyond all feeling except this torturous crush and pull. It pressed and pressed, I spun and spun. Hands shot inward and interrupted the whirlwind as they grasped the sides of my face.

The hands were cold on my fevered skin. I slowly opened my eyes, their vision was restored and I felt not even the slightest hint of the pain that consumed me only seconds ago. The hands were still on my face as I reoriented myself. I looked at the hands, then the wrists and arms they were attached to, then the shoulders, and the face. It was Hades, looking to me like a dangerously beautiful angel. He smiled down at me and asked me where I had been. I frowned and looked around. We were in a grove of trees now. They were planted very evenly in rows, like a mechanical grid plotted with flowering trees instead of little black dots. There was soft grass beneath me, and I became preoccupied with it. His hands forcefully brought my face back to his. My head was muddled now, like I was watching the scene through thick glass and listening with cotton in my ears. I struggled to remove the barrier, but couldn't. I tried to answer his question, that I didn't know where I had been, and didn't know where I was, but nothing came out, the lethargy had effectively tied my tongue. My head tipped back, I no longer had the presence or energy to hold it up. I began to fall sideways, slowly, as if I was gliding toward the ground, each body part gradually loosing its independent will. I dimly saw that Hades' smiled had transformed into an unreasonably worried look. I began to wonder why. I heard him say that he had to get out of here. I would have protested, the sleep state that was over taking me began to feel lovely.

Suddenly we were back at his palace and he was gently tapping the side of my face, trying to wake me up. My reality snapped jarringly into place, making my head ache for a second. I looked up at him, my breath shallow. I thanked him with my eyes for saving me two times over. He nodded, but looked grim. I stared at his flawless features. My savior. I felt of rush of gratitude toward him, and with it came the thrill of longing. He looked dangerous now as he read my eyes: like a dark angel, his eyes flashed like blades, and his mouth curled into a snarl. He placed both his hands on the wall on either side of my head the way he had before, surrounding me like an iron cage. He bent over me, his posture fiercely possessive, and brushed his lips against the hollow of my neck. I shivered and that response seemed to send him closer to breaking. He whispered, his mouth next to my ear, "I was waiting for you…" His voice was torn between desire and sadness, and I couldn't understand it.

He traced a line with his mouth up my throat, his tongue flicking out along the way, working me up to a fever pitch almost instantly. I couldn't hold it back any longer, pent up need exploded in the base of my skull, I reached down and grasped the sides of his hips and heaved him toward me. Our bodies met with a crash, my breath was pushed out of my lungs. I greedily breathed him back in, his scent was delicious, earthy, like sandalwood. It drove me to remove every inch of open space between us. His body felt sinfully exciting against mine. I felt him growl into my neck, and the vibration made my knees weak. And in a second, his hands were off the wall and grasping my wrists; he separated them and then brought them roughly back together behind my back, his arms now wrapped around me still holding my wrists. It tugged my shoulders backward, and exposed my chest and neck to him. He kept himself pressed against me, his height forced my head backwards to look up at his face. His eyes were boring into mine with hunger, and mine were delirious with the sensation I was experiencing below the pit of my stomach. I closed my eyes and tipped my head all the way back, offering myself to him. He yanked harder on my wrists pushing me harder against his chest. He rushed down to kiss me…

Then I woke up.

I sat bolt upright in my bed, panting. My night clothes were drenched in sweat, and my legs were hopelessly tangled in the covers. My heart rate fluttered rapidly as my head tried to make sense of what it had just created. I flopped violently back onto my pillow, and then rolled over and began shrieking profanities into another pillow in utter frustration. I kept on swearing and punching until I heard a knock on my door.

I gasped. _It couldn't be him. It had better not be, how could I see him like this…after that. _I quickly threw on a dressing robe and tried to smooth my hair down in to something that didn't look like a wild animal perched on my head. _What'll I do if it's him? Oh…I. That dream was so…intense, I wouldn't even be able to look at him. _I gathered my confidence as I reached for the handle. I opened the door, fearing the worst, but it was not at all who I expected.

I actually didn't know who it was. In my doorway stood a young girl, she was small, with a lithe form and beautiful, delicate face. She had the darkest hair I had ever seen, and it made her skin look even paler than it actually was. Her eyes were the color of obsidian, but sparkled with tiny white lights. The surprise must have been evident on my face, because she smiled at me and said, "Forgive me if I was interrupting anything, my name is Nyx and I am here to assist you today."

I blushed a little, _she must have heard my tirade into the pillow. _Then all the sudden I remembered why she was here to assist me: I'm having dinner with Hades, _tonight_. I groaned out loud, which confused Nyx. "Is something the matter, Persephone?" I was startled when she used my first name, but I responded, "No, no thank you, I only just remembered something. Oh, I am being terribly rude, won't you come in?" She replied in thanks. I asked, mostly in curiosity, "How is it that you have come to know my name?". "Lord Hades told it to me of course, but I knew it before then. Everyone knows you here, except maybe the dead, but they don't know too much of anything do they?" She laughed a tinkling little laugh at some sort of private joke. I tried to smile back, but it didn't reach my eyes. _Everyone knows me here. Well I suppose that can't be too odd, how often does this type of thing happen? _

She appraised my appearance from the other side of the room and grinned, "Where shall we start?" I smiled, actually meaning it this time, and admitted that I had only just woken up. She walked over to me with graceful steps, and I understood why she had been sent to help me. Her hair was done up in a complicated, elegant style, and her dark blue robes were arranged in a very flattering manner. Her air and walk was made of nothing but sinuous grace, and dark beauty. I sighed, knowing that we had a lot of work to do, to make me look like that after my restless night.

So the day began with a bath first, painful scrubbing of my skin and hair, and on and on with tying and dressing and styling until I thought that there couldn't possibly be anything else to do. Nyx and I spoke freely to one another, and I liked her very much. I did think her name was unusual though, Night. I remarked on this and she gave me a cryptic look, "That's what I am.", was the only thing she said in reply as she started to curl my hair. I sat awed for a moment, but I should have known. I remembered from studying with Hades in the library, that his kingdom seemed to be larger than the one Zeus ruled above, and filled with beings more powerful at that. So it shouldn't have been a surprise that Night, or Nyx, a being present since the beginning, was under the rule of Hades. A shiver shook my spine up to my shoulders, and could almost feel her laugh at my comprehension. But when we weren't talking, my mind wandered back to my dream. It was a nightmare, at least until he came. But the first part was still unsettling, all the places I was so familiar with became alien and menacing, and I was clearly not welcome. I didn't know what it meant, but when _he _came into my dream, it no longer mattered. I could almost feel his touch as I relived the dream. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

After hours of preparation, we were finally finished. Nyx appraised me once more, and gave a wide smile of approval. "See if he will be able to restrain himself now." I turned to look in the mirror, and gasped in shock. I almost didn't recognize myself, well, I looked like myself but I had never looked like this. The dress Nyx had chosen for me was pitch black and reached all the way to the floor. The neckline plunged daringly to the bottom of my ribs, exposing a flawless slice of the skin on my chest. The neckline extended upward to form the straps on my shoulders, the fabric was cinched together at the top, each by a sparkling silver band; the line of the straps continued around to my back and dipped all the way down to my lower back. It clung to my body in a way that none of my dresses ever had, it smoothed delicately over my hips, and flowed slightly outward as it approached the floor and trailed behind me. The effect was stunning, and unmistakably sensual. My dark auburn hair was tied up in a messy knot that still looked elegant, with loose tendrils grazing my shoulders here and there, it shone in the light of my room and made the pale skin of my face seem to glow. Nyx had rimmed my gray eyes in kohl, and it made them sparkle like the silver on my dress, and the band on my upper arm; my lips had been stained a deep, blood red. The look was ethereal and a little dangerous. I realized with a start, that I looked perfectly like a goddess of the night, and it was the most beautiful I had ever been. Nyx sighed in satisfaction, and I in nervousness. It was the evening now, and any second there would be…

A knock on the door echoed around the room. Our heads snapped toward the door; a messenger was here to convey us to the hall. It was time for the real evening to begin.

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	10. Chapter 10

Poem by Katherine Mansfeild (first two stanzas of "Chamomile Tea")

Sorry about the wait, I was on vacation for a few days and now I'm back. But unfortunately I am moving into my dorm this friday so it may take another week or so before I get another chapter out, so I apologize in advance.

Thank you so much to those of you who leave reviews! To those of you who don't, well, leave some because I'm writing this for everyone...

Also, forgive me if there are errors. My proof reading skills are not yet up to par.

Outside the sky is light with stars;  
There's a hollow roaring from the sea.  
And, alas! for the little almond flowers,  
The wind is shaking the almond tree.

How little I thought, a year ago,  
In the horrible cottage upon the Lee  
That he and I should be sitting so  
And sipping a cup of chamomile tea.

Chapter 10

I paced back and forth across the entrance to the banquet hall. Everything was prepared exactly as planned, so tonight should be flawless. Then why was I pacing? Not like a hungry tiger paces back and forth, glaring at its prey, but more the way idiotic birds peck this way and that in mindless agitation. I will admit I was nervous. Only several days had passed since Persephone became a resident in my palace, and I did not have any way of knowing how she felt about it now. She certainly let me know how she felt before, but unless I was imagining it, something had begun to change. I stopped pacing a moment and wrung my hands together. Maybe I had only wished her change of heart to come, and made it so in my mind; I could have interpreted everything all wrong. Or even if she did start to feel better about me and my home, maybe she is repulsed by her own feelings, or maybe she does not know how she feels and is only trying to… _Silence! _I commanded my mind to be quiet, but unfortunately it does not work that way. I looked down at my hands and dropped them in disgust. The urge to learn what she was thinking was a constant distraction, in my throne room, in my bedroom, while I ate, while I bathed, even while I slept. My mind simply could not give up trying to reach hers. I knew it was impossible, but does that ever make a difference? Frustration had begun to back up in my skull, like a river threatening to overtake a dam. This was why tonight seemed so important to me. Tonight I would be able to find out definitely what she thought, I would talk with her in clear terms, observe her actions and attitudes toward me, and see exactly how she stands.

My cut and dried solution gave me a small comfort, enough so that I could run over one last check of the hall to see that everything was in its proper place before she arrived. I had the hall decorated in the style of a summer night, I hoped it would be appropriate. The walls were made entirely of smoothed, black Micah that shimmered in the soft light from the silver chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling. The ceiling itself was actually hung canvas, in a yellow-cream color, that dipped lower in the four corners of the room, much like a large tent. I had placed the chandeliers much lower to create the flickering illusion of stars on the canvas, but not to illuminate it, because it turned a delicate shade of twilight gray as deeper night fell on my domain; the overall effect, I thought, was of the last glow of a sunset in the evening. Around the walls, and from the inside of the ceiling, hung many strings of gold coins in varying shapes and sizes, each reflecting its own flash of gold light as they spun. They hung low to bring the ceiling down, and reduce its vastness. I also added to the walls, many mounted pots of hanging vines and flowers, that filled the air with their scent, to make her feel at ease. I knew that she like to have life near her, that it heartened her to see things growing. There was a generous space cleared on the floor for dancing, but the rest was taken up by wrought iron tables with curling designs forming the legs and top, which was covered by a circular pane of glass in deep, yet translucent gem tones. Some tables were covered with ruby colored glass, others in topaz or emerald or sapphire, and others still in amethyst. The table I had set for Persephone and I, was slightly larger than the rest, and was topped with a smoky, topaz colored glass. On it, were two place settings, two glasses, and of course, utensils. In the center I placed an amber vial that contained the flower of the Underworld, the very same one she had picked, moments before I arrived.

I huffed a breath of terse satisfaction, and ran a hand through my hair. All that was missing was her. Some of the more virtuous shades had been invited, mostly to take up space, and they began to file in now and to either take seats at their tables, or simply amble about, commenting on the loveliness of the room in dull murmurs.

I heard a rustling at the doorway, the small click of the handle was lost in the general noise, and I turned just in time to see the servant shade walk in, followed by Nyx, whose help I had enlisted on behalf of Persephone, and finally Persephone herself.

There is not an adequate supply of words in human language to describe the immediate burst of thoughts in my head when I saw her walk into the hall. All I can say is that I was dumbfounded. She knocked the breath out of my lungs, and tripped my heart. For an indefinable amount of time, I could do nothing but stare, slack jawed. She looked exquisite in that dress, the perfect combination of innocence and daring; it was absolutely stunning. But more than that, it was dark. If there had ever been any doubt before, as to where this woman belonged, it could stand no longer in the face of the divine image in front of me. She walked in with a quiet confidence, and sensual grace that showed in the slight tilt of her hips with each step, and the way she held her shoulders back, and her chin a touch higher than usual. I felt a familiar thrill in my gut and a twitch in my limbs that I could barely restrain. She was mine tonight, and I strove desperately to calm myself down, and not rush right up to her and do things to her that I had only dreamed of. I shuddered. I had thought that I would be able to analyze her; to dissect her every word and move. But it was apparent now that it was impossible, and that I no longer desired to figure her out, that would be wasted time. Instead I wished only to drink her in. Her eyes, after what seemed like ages, finally locked in with mine, and it was just like looking into a mirror…

…I knew he could see right into me, I knew because I was doing the same thing to him. I was sure my knees would give out beneath me, so strong was the feeling I read in him and felt in myself. He looked captivatingly elegant, in a jet black suit that buttoned up the side of his chest to a high collar, in a military style. With his body silhouetted in his dark clothing, I could see perfectly, the lines, and hard angles of his body, from his broad shoulders down to his narrow waist, and long legs. The beauty of his form, even fully dressed made my heart ache, and strain against my ribs. His hair swept down to his eyes, making him look thrillingly dark and seductive. At that moment I was tempted to run to him and act out my dream, but it seemed that at the moment we were both rooted fast to the ground we stood on by the same invisible force. A knot in my stomach clenched harder, and I sucked in a quick breath of surprise and let it out again as slowly as I could. This seemed to be enough to break the spell. He blinked several times and moved toward me…

…I used the few steps toward her as time to calm my nerves and collect my thoughts. I would need them both to serve me to get through this evening without disgracing myself. I offered her my arm, and led her over to our table, intensely conscious of our closeness the whole way there. We each took our seats, facing one another across the table. I wondered for a moment who would begin talking, or even what we would talk about. I had seen it with perfect clarity when I played the scene in my head, but now I was not so sure. Then abruptly, she spoke, "My lord, this hall is magnificent. It reminds of a place I used to visit many years ago." I was surprised, she did not seem at all wistful or saddened by the comparison, I smiled with relief on the inside, but then decided to smile on the outside too. I was most definitely unaccustomed to this. I inquired about the place she spoke of, she answered, "It was an old temple dedicated to my mother," here I detected aggravation, "it had been long since abandoned, but the flowers and vines just continued growing all along the walls and the floor, and the top was completely open to the sky…It looks remarkably like the ceiling in here." She gestured with graceful arms, to the canvas ceiling and walls and floor. My heart glowed when she turned back and smiled at me, "Only I think I may prefer this, because there is no chance of my getting rained on out of nowhere!" She laughed, and I smiled again. There was a gentle lull in conversation. It was not awkward, it just seemed that we were both wondering what it would be safe to talk about…

…He was the one who decided to take the next turn at conversation. He looked almost nervous, which surprised me. What would the man who controls death have to be nervous about? But then he spoke, "Persephone…" he paused here, looking stuck. "My lord…?" I prompted. It got his attention. "Please, call me Hades." I gave a small nod, and then he remembered where he was: "I know that this place is not where you would like to be, rather, it is not what you are used to. In fact it may be just the opposite…" Suddenly I knew where this was going, and I had so many things to tell him. I felt a desperate tug at my throat, and I had to swallow to fight it back. I knew what he thought about what I felt. I wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that I did hate here it at first, I loathed it, I hated being stolen without my consent. But I was wrong. I saw his kindness, the justness with which he held all of that power and standing, I even wanted to be a part of it. I saw that back in my home I would have been given away in marriage just as easily without my consent, I should not have expected more. My eyes were open now, and all I saw was him…

…I was trying to find the right words to tell her what I meant, but I could not summon them forward. Then I saw the look on her face. Her emotions flickered violently over her features, like the flame of a candle, but I was unsure of what I read there. I continued anyway: "I am aware of all this, and the suddenness with which I took you here. You may leave any time you wish, I would not stop you," these words hurt the most, and I feared she would take advantage, "But if you have in any way changed your mind, I urge you to please spend a little more time here, to see what it is really like to live and rule here, it can be so much more than what you have seen. And regardless of your decision, you must know why I brought you here in the first place." I paused again, taking a breath to steady myself. "I have watched you for some time now. It is not my custom to frequently visit the upper world, especially Mount Olympus. But when I saw you for the first time, I knew you were different. I could immediately see that you had so much more potential, so much more life and spirit and fire than what anyone expected of you. Forgive me for being forward, but, I--I love you, and wish that you would remain here and be my queen." I held my breath and clenched my fists, I could not bear to watch her face to see her reaction, yet I looked up anyway. Her beautiful gray eyes were brimming with tears, I frowned at this, a little confused. Finally she smiled as a tear rolled down her cheek, and my whole body flooded with warmth and amazement that I never before understood.

Shaking ever so slightly, she stood from her chair and came to my side of the table, as soon as she got near enough, I reached out and gathered her in my arms. She perched herself on my lap, light as a dove, and wrapped her arms around my neck bringing herself closer to me. I was in a mild state of shock. I could barely believe this was happening, it was more than I could have hoped for, and I did not care. All that mattered was the woman sitting with me. Maybe it was not a return of love, and it was not acceptance of my offer, but it was enough. With my arms still around her, and hers around me we leaned in toward each other, and this time we kissed. As her lips pressed fully against mine, I felt the dam in my head burst open and drain, and with it drained all the stiffness I had acquired over the millennia. I could feel her melting into the kiss as our lips parted to one another, whispering of the faintest urgency. She broke the kiss, slowly stood and asked me, "Would you like to dance?" Her mouth curved up in a coy smile that I had not yet seen. I liked it. For the moment, her uncertainty was gone and…

…I led him to the center of the hall, still buzzing with the exhilaration of the kiss I had longed for. When I had come to him I was unwilling, so I knew that he would not let himself believe that I was just as deeply in love with him. To prove it to him, I would show him how he had helped me shed my cold exterior, the way a caterpillar emerges as a butterfly.

As soon as we stepped onto the floor, music started to seep through the walls and ceiling. It was a haunting gypsy tune, played on a fiddle that slid seductively up and down the melody, with deep, rushing drums underneath. It came from everywhere and nowhere all at once, a fact that Hades seemed already aware of. I threw him a look from under my eyelashes as I moved farther out onto the floor. He recognized my look at once, and just like in my dream, his eyes flashed and his mouth showed the slightest hint of a growl. He didn't approach me, instead he stood back a distance, waiting, with a hunger in his stance. I took the opportunity to tease him a little. I began to dance the way I did at home when no one was watching, giving myself over to an imagined melody. Only this time it was real, as real as the pulse in my veins. It filled my ears and vibrated on my skin as I slowly ran my hands up my sides, pausing at my hips and ribs. I turned my head in toward my arms as they glided over my head; my eyes slid shut for a moment. My hips made deliberate circles, isolated from my chest so that only they moved. I felt the delicious pull of my stomach muscles as they stretched taut over my belly. Next my chest moved, rising and falling in time with my hips, so that my whole body was set in motion. I turned in circles and released my arms to lower back down as my wrists turned in and out in a beckoning gesture. I stopped turning, facing away from him. I rolled my shoulders back one at a time, waiting to feel his approach. His hands gripped the sides of my arms and he pulled me roughly back against him…

…Her movements had me enthralled, I was surprised at her talent for seduction, but maybe I was just easily seduced. She was ridiculously tempting and she knew it, but I did not want to push her too far. As she pressed against me I reminded myself, _this is only a dance_. I led her through a tango that was lilting and close at some times, and punctuated and distant at others. We moved together across the floor, completely absorbed in the temper of the dance; I would throw her out and she would spin back in, landing hard at my chest, and she would twist her body against mine, and then lock our arms at a distance, separating us. Neither of us spoke a word, dialogue flowed freely between our bodies as they crashed together and tore apart.

The dance ended as I dipped her low, her back arched all the way as she released her neck. I leaned over her, taking in the scent of her chest and throat; my nose grazed over the bare skin there. I stood her up, keeping our bodies close. I looked down into her eyes; they were ravenous. I pushed my hands on her lower back, forcing her body even closer. She licked her lips and whispered, "You had better kiss me…" But before she finished her statement I had caught her mouth with mine. She gave a small moan, and I deepened the kiss. She was completely open to me now, and my demand grew more fierce. I traced my tongue lightly past her lips, and felt a tremor move up her spine, but she did not pull away. Instead she act as if she wanted nothing more. It was me who eventually broke the kiss, we looked at each other, our lips still shining, our breath ragged. I wanted to slow myself down, I could feel that familiar ache rising up again. As desensitized as I tried to become to her presence, it was still very difficult to hold back. If she had done this the first time I brushed my lips across hers, her virtue would have run screaming out of the room at what would have happened next. I suggested instead that we take a walk…

… "Where would you like to go?" I asked. It was an innocent question, but it seemed to ring with so many others that held entirely different meanings. I blushed a little, he only smiled down at me and held out his arm. I took it, and we began to walk through the different corridors in his palace. I was a little scared of being alone with him, not because of what he might do, but because of what _I _might decide to do. We walked in silence for a moment, each of us content with our own thoughts.

I suddenly had an idea. I turned to Hades and asked him, "Do you think that we could stop somewhere so that I could take these shoes off? They are beginning to put blisters on my feet." If he guessed at anything, he didn't show it. He only nodded and made a another turn. "My chambers are here. Hand me your shoes, I will be just a moment." He opened the door to his chambers. I didn't have time to look around, as he made his way to the other side of his room, I slipped silently in and shut the door behind me. I stood with my hands behind my back, against the door, waiting for him to turn back around. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as he saw the door closed, and me on the inside of it. He gave a dangerous smile that displayed his perfect teeth. The closer he came to me, his eyes never leaving mine, the faster my breathing became, until I was afraid I would pass out. He stood in front of me and snaked his hands around my back to meet mine. Only, he did not pull them out to hold between us. He kept them locked behind me, his hands tight around my wrists. I cried out a little in astonishment, and a little in delight. He laid a string of kisses along my jaw line, and stopped right before he got to my mouth. I would have begged if I had to, anything for this to never stop.

I turned my face to his, and kissed him full on the mouth. It was a forceful kiss, not innocent the way I'm sure he expected it to be. I gently took in his bottom lip with my teeth and traced the tip of my tongue over it. And then he froze. His body was like solid marble against mine as he released my hands and slowly backed away. His breath came in small gasps, and his eyes were as wide as I had ever seen them. "Persephone…" he rasped, half in awe, half in shock. He looked very seriously at me and said, "Tell me what you want. I would never ask more of you than you are comfortable with, I only want to know…I do not want to push you…I…" I put one finger on his lips to quiet him. I stood on my toes to reach up and kiss his forehead. "Hades, I love you." My voice sounded full even to my own ears, and I was surprised by the force with which I said it. And I meant it too. I would have given anything for him then…

…I looked down at her. Had she really just said that? I had never felt such joy. Though I was barely capable of expressing it, a single tear slid down my face. She smiled at me and understood exactly what I meant. She reached up and kissed the tear that collected at the bottom of my jaw. It was the most tender gesture anyone had ever extended to me. I locked her in my arms, and buried my face in the crook of her neck. She kissed my shoulder, and anywhere else that was in her reach. We pulled apart after a time, and she said to me: "I will meet you here tomorrow, after all your work is done." And with that, she swept right out of my chambers. The room still resonated with her promise. I was grateful that she said it, I wanted to take tonight and tomorrow to memorize everything. I wanted to savor every moment, and a lot had just happened. This was not too fast, this was…

…Perfect. I felt a great weight lifted off my chest. I finally told him how I felt. I promised him tomorrow, but tonight I needed to sit and make sense of everything, to bask in the glow of his affection. I had never thought it possible for Hades to display such passion. I felt privileged to be the only one who saw it. I returned to my room that night, and could not sleep for hours. But I did sigh more times in those hours than all my years put together. I longed for tomorrow to come and go, but at the same time I relished the anticipation of the promise I had left hanging between us, that would be fulfilled in only hours…


	11. Chapter 11

I'm so sorry for the wait...College just tossed me around, and beat the crap out of me...So here is the next installment of the story, if it's no good please let me know...Once again, very sorry for the wait. Another chapter willbe up very quickly. Thank you all so much for the reviews! This poem down here is called "At Last She Comes" by Roert Louis Stevenson.

At last she comes, O never more  
In this dear patience of my pain  
To leave me lonely as before,  
Or leave my soul alone again.

Chapter 11

I sat in the library again, this time more nervous than before. Slumping back into the chocolate colored sofa I had chosen, I heaved a great sigh, which in turn stirred up the butterflies in my stomach. The library had come to be a soothing room, with all its books, candles, and comfortable chairs, but mostly the sense that it was a well-worn place, however it was the man who had worn it in that was making me so agitated. I stood up suddenly, and then sat back down. I couldn't decide what to do with myself when all I could do was think about this evening. I brought my knees up to my chest and rested my chin on them. _What could he be doing? What could he be thinking right now? _I thought he must be working, so I decided of course, to see exactly how Hades was doing today.

The only problem was I hadn't the slightest idea where Hades did most of his work, so I slid a large volume out from the top shelf. It was the very same book that I had looked for my first day in the library, and it seemed ironic to me that while I had been using it to try to escape before, I was now using it to find my captor. I opened to a page that showed a wide map of the inside of Hades' palace. Each room was labeled, and there were even notations for the locations of particular items for each room such as windows, regular doors, and what looked like tiny doors with spidery black lines drawn from them to other tiny doors in other chambers. Trap doors. I quickly scanned the map, anxious to see if there were any doors that lead to my room. I was grateful to find that no thin black lines reached to my chambers, it seemed that he really did have a sense of honor. I thought back to last night for a moment, and remembered how he had told me that the reason he brought me here was because he loved me. I shivered. Something didn't feel right.

I brushed off the feeling and set off for the throne room, as it was labeled on the map, but with one little twist. I knew that the entrance to the throne room was just the gaping mouth of the hallway leading up to it, so I decided instead, to use one of the passages described on the map. This way, if I read it correctly, I would come out of a door located directly to the side of the throne, that way I could have the option of choosing whether or not I wanted to be seen.

The passage was hewn out of layers of stone deep in the earth; it was narrow and damp, but well lit, with tiny stings of lights that glittered against the stone, running along the floor and the ceiling. The path wound for some time, and the further I went, the greater my sense of foreboding became. Though not about where I was going, but about what was going on overhead. I stopped for a moment, sensing that I was climbing some, and getting closer to the throne room, which was set higher than the rest of the palace. It hadn't occurred to me that climbing would also mean reaching the surface, and that I may actually be able to see what was going on up above. I began walking again, this time with a greater sense of purpose. When I finally saw the mahogany door at the end of the passage, I rushed up and pressed my ear against it. From the other side I heard a voice, a strong voice that I knew to be Hades'. Now that I was assured that I was in the right place, I decided that it wouldn't hurt to take a quick look at my home before I began spying. So I sat down with my back against the door, and closed my eyes, trying to envision my home as it was when I left. Through the black I reached out and a picture began to assemble before my eyes, but it was not at all what I expected:

Windstorms blew daily. They raged and whipped over the barren gray wastelands that covered the face of the planet. There was no rain and no sun, only starving gray clouds that idled their emaciated gray bodies over the sun and its rays. The wind continued to sweep down from the sky and pound down on the cracked earth in vain, as if it were searching for something that would not return. It ravaged the land in frustration, tore up trees, stripped crops of their fruits, and utterly destroyed all signs of growth and life. It wailed at night, sank into a soft moan of desperation as the moon rose higher and the clouds resigned themselves to separation. But in the morning, when the new day was the same as the last, it howled again in rage, and instead of dawn there would be clouds, pathetic and bruised black from the sorrow of each passing day.

The earth no longer existed in a time of prosperity as fields made up of people's livings withered and died. Sacrifices were made in vain, wasting the little resources villagers and farmers had left, it seemed that their goddess had turned a blind eye on them and they could do nothing but watch as everything they valued and depended on turned to dust. My mother, Demeter wept and wept as the days went by, thinking nothing of her loyal followers, only alternating between moods of fury and despair at the loss of her precious daughter. She would sob, and fall to the floor of her cold, marble temple and pull and tear out her hair, then beat her fists upon the ground until all her heavenly strength was drained. This was the source of the wind and the drought, for Demeter had sworn that all the days her daughter was not returned to her, would be days of unbearable suffering for all the earth. And so they were.

The ghostly specter of famine swept in through every door of every home, silent as his cousin death, but not so smooth. Death was swift, existing in only the last draw of breath, the exhalation of last words; it lived, as only death could, in the poetry of things coming to a close. Sometimes the moment of death was symbolic, sometimes it was just, and sometimes it was tragic, but it was always release. Death's dear cousin Famine tripped and coughed in his work, Famine was never poetic, and never just. Famine was ugly and slow, and when he was invited in by those too weak to close the door, he took those souls and wrung them out. They became warped, transformed into people they had never been, and never would have been. They turned on one another for the smallest crust of bread; using the only strength they had left to move their chapped lips to mumble curses at family and friends alike.

A little girl, about the age of seven, ventured outside her home in what should have been a balmy night suited for catching fireflies. The wind had calmed, and purely from youth's inability to understand futility, this little girl decided to search for flowers in her mother's garden. She crunched through the dead herbs and grasses, ducked under skeletal looking tree branches that snagged her ill-fitting dress and came at last to the end of the garden where the most glorious of flowers once grew under the blessings of Persephone, the beautiful young goddess she had seen pictures of in the carvings of the temple walls. This little girl stooped down and began to pick through the worthless pale brown stems of old blooms. Her receded eyes searched for any sign of color, any trace of life, and finally, against all chance she found a poppy flower, its thin green stem supported a delicate bloom of blood red petals. She gasped in wonder, as she adjusted to the shock of color, so long it had been since she had seen anything other than faded grays and browns. A tear ran down her hollowed cheek, yet at the same time her tiny stomach had awoken and gave a painful lurch of hunger. And so this child aged fifty years in one moment, as the flower she once would have plucked and cherished for its prettiness, she now ripped from the ground and stuffed into her mouth, chewing greedily on the paper-thin petals and stem, disregarding the pebbles of dirt still attached to the roots. She rocked back and forth on her heels and began to cry as she chewed and swallowed the poisonous flower. Her stomach clenched and writhed in pain, and her forehead broke out in a cold sweat.

The effect of the flower on her fragile body was swift and forgiving, she fell forward on the palms of her hands and her nails scraped against the hard earth of the garden as she heaved once, and fell to her side. Gray eyelids closed over grayer eyes, as she slipped into a comatose state. She died like this, her wraith-thin body bent and broken by hunger and suffering. No one would miss her; her family had starved soon before, and she had been living alone. Once considered the loveliest child in the village, she now looked strained and pale. What was left of her hair retained a faded brown color, as did her skin, which was now frosting over in grays and pallid blues.

I wrenched myself away from the vision as tears poured down my face. I had managed to summon the poppy in the last moment, hoping that it would bring this child a more peaceful end than that of her parents. With my face buried in my hands I wept for the state of the earth, for my mother, for that little girl, and I wept hardest of all because it was all my fault. My shoulders shook with silenced sobs as my grief overwhelmed me, something wasn't right up there, and I should have felt it by now. I froze when I heard a small child's voice outside the door. My eyes grew wider as I realized that this was her judgment. I listened closer, and strained my ears to hear her timid voice answer to the Ruler of Death.

Hades' voice was stern as he asked her who she was and what she had done wrong. I chewed on my lip and frowned through the tears that had run down my face. I knew that she had done nothing wrong. I had. But I also knew that Hades had seen the whole thing happen, and he knew why she was here. His judgment should have been a simple one, why was it going this far? I heard his voice again; this time he was demanding to know what she had done wrong in this life. My breath caught in my chest, he was going to punish her for what I did; he was going to call her death a suicide.

I couldn't believe it; I was suddenly fuming. I brought myself out of my overwhelming grief and confusion to throw my weight against the door, but as I tumbled out I was surprised to find that Hades was already looking at the door when I fell into the room. "What are you doing?" I screamed at him, the tears starting again. I looked at the soul of the child standing in judgment, she stared blankly back at me. She had no idea whatsoever that her death was my fault, that the death of her family was my fault as well. I turned back and forth between the two of them, Hades looked at me with something on his stare that I couldn't identify. He opened his mouth to speak, but it wasn't to me. He addressed the girl with composure that I hadn't heard in his voice before, "The remainder of your time in eternity will be spent in the Elysian Fields. You are an innocent child, whose death was not your fault. I will tell you now that after your entrance into that realm you will have no memory of your death. Do you have any questions?" And the child took this in calmly and nodded as if she had lived for centuries already. With that she was whisked away to a place that I will never be able to see.

I stood dumbfounded as I watched this exchange. He had baited me, he knew I was there the whole time and saw what I did to the girl and the poppy flower. "…You knew." I said incredulously.

He nodded. "I did."

And that was when I ran from the room. I sprinted all the way back to the comfort of my room, rushed in and slammed the door behind me. I went to the closet, not realizing what I was doing, opened the doors and began rifling through the dresses inside. It felt like all I ever did was run; my hands finally stopped on a light blue and lilac colored dressing gown. I numbly shed my clothing, running over what I saw in my head, getting over the shock. The gown draped all the way to the floor and wrapped around making a v-shaped neckline. It was lined with lilac cashmere and the outside was made of thin, light blue satin that had a delicately inlaid swirl pattern. I rubbed both sides between my thumb and index finger as I walked over to my bed. Only then did I realize exactly how well Hades had arranged my room; everything about it reminded me of the beauty of the earth, from the marble, to the flowers in the wood grain of the mantle, and even the tiny blooms on the cover for my bed; and it all made me sick. I couldn't stand to be around it anymore, so I was going to run one more time.

I hurried out of my room, with the end of my gown trailing behind me. I had forgotten my shoes, so I padded quickly to the right, where I thought I remembered Hades' room to be from the map. I thought that if there was anywhere that wouldn't remind of the earth it would be his room. When I got there, I realized that I wasn't running at all, but now I was so confused that my eyes began to water again. I pushed feebly on the door to Hades' room and it was open and empty. I sighed a breath of relief, because I hadn't gotten as far as figuring out how I would have explained myself for being in his room, I had assumed that he would not leave his duties.

I was awed at the size and beauty of the room, it was an expansive room, simple in design, and everything in it was black and white. I sat down on the largest bed I had ever seen in my life, it was a four-poster bed covered in black blankets, with white sheets, and white pillows. So many things were fighting for attention in my head, the need to go home a fix the desperate condition it had fallen in, but that would mean leaving Hades… Bringing my knees up to my chin, I tried in vain to figure out what happened this afternoon. _Time must move differently here, which would explain the deterioration of the earth…nothing could have happened that quickly…I have to go back, that's the only way that my mother will stop all this…but…I'm not so sure I want to leave yet…but the only reason I'm here is because I was taken here without my mother's consent…I couldn't just tell my mother that I would like to stay a little longer, could you please stop destroying the earth. _I sighed. I have to go home, I have to make him let me leave. Withdrawing into my anguish, and myself, I thought of the face of that little girl and how many others looked just like her, and I thought of the way Hades looked at me last night. I had to choose one of them.

During the time I had spent thinking, I had almost forgotten where I was. I remembered suddenly when the doorknob twisted and the door creaked slowly open. Hades walked in, with his coat slung over his shoulder, and his eyes looking down at the floor. This was one of the rare moments when I got to observe him when he thought no one else was looking. At that moment he looked like he had the world on his shoulders, and he did. His expression was not mournful however; it was resolved, angry even, which suited his face perfectly and I could not help but notice how handsome he looked. And then the moment was over; Hades noticed my unexpected presence in his room…


	12. Chapter 12

This poem is by Robert Frost, titled Acceptance.

I apologize if this isnt any good, I have excuses, but they probably won't do me any good. At least enjoy please.

Thanks very much to blackpen, Ruthie, Monito, Helena Lenore, goodby caroline, aeysa, adlyb and everyone else who took the time to review.

Now let the night be dark for all of me.  
Let the night be too dark for me to see  
Into the future. Let what will be, be.'

Chapter 12

I must admit that I was a little startled when I looked up to find that she was in my room, and on my bed no less. Her eyes were rimmed red from crying; this afternoon had obviously taken its toll. It was true that I knew what she did for that little girl, and it is also true that I know death, and that her time was up very shortly, though not nearly as swift as the death she was given. Technically, Persephone cheated. No one is supposed to be excepted from the rules of life and death, especially not by immortals who can see from the outside, exactly what the consequences of such an action would be. Fortunately, the girl would not have significantly impacted any other life in the days she had left, as there was no soul living near her to impact, everyone from her village had already starved. I did not know whether to admire her, or to admonish her. My first instinct was to frown upon any disregard for the rules and boundaries in living and dying, but there was some other part of me that responded to the care and concern she showed for humans, particularly this little girl. I have watched an uncountable number of people die, and pass through my gates but I have never once questioned the justice in my decisions once they have died. I was never a part in deciding when they died, or how, but this little girl's death made me acutely aware of how unjust life can be. I took solace in the fact that I was not a bringer of death, nor was I fate, I was a judge; each fact of each life has already taken place, and being aware of the grand spectrum of good and evil, even in context, I could make the proper and suitable choice for the resting place of a soul for the remainder of eternity.

I stood and watched Persephone a moment longer, before I turned my back to her and threw my coat over a chair. There was so much I had to say, and so much that I knew she needed to say. Her world needed her back desperately before her fool of a mother, Demeter, destroyed everything out of spite, and I could feel that we were reaching a point that we could no longer ignore. A decision had to be made. I sighed slowly, and rubbed a hand over my forehead, "Why did you come here?" I asked, my tone a little more brusque than I had intended. I had never been a terrific conversationalist.

She looked caught off guard, as if she really did not know herself why exactly she was here. She hesitated before answering, "I thought of nowhere else to go. I could leave if you want, I didn't mean to intrude, I just thought…I don't know what I thought…" she stood up to leave, "…I'll just go…" She frowned and looked away, focused on something that was clearly not in the room, maybe a memory, then she made a decided move toward the door, and before I could stop myself I turned and grabbed her wrist. "Wait."

She twisted around to look up at me, and her face held the strangest expression. I could not place it at first, but her eyes looked strangely dull, like all the light from them had been sucked inward like a star in a vacuum. I was used to seeing her eyes full of expression and life, but something had changed. I saw little cracks start to form around her edges, tiny fractures; she was breaking right in front of me, desperate and exhausted, tired beyond all measure. Her shoulders slumped forward in defeat, and her body seemed unable to hold itself up anymore. She did not seem to be breathing, as is if she were waiting for something else to come and pick her apart. Her eyebrows cinched up at the front in a backwards frown as she continued to look at me, and she swayed on the spot. I caught her by the shoulders and ducked my face down to look up into hers. Her eyelids sank lower over her eyes as she struggled to stand on her own. "Persephone can you stand…Persephone!" I lead her back to have a seat on the edge of the bed. At least if she collapsed there she would not hurt herself, and she might even be able to get some sleep. Persephone looked to me like she could have used a year's worth of sleep, as she lowered her head into her hands.

I struggled to find the right words to say, "Persephone please, I am sorry if I hurt you." I was murmuring more to myself than anyone else, but she started out of her overwhelmed state for a moment to give me look of shock that I did not understand. "You didn't do anything wrong, I just thought that you were going to send that poor little girl to Tartarus for being a suicide." Her voice sounded like glass breaking as it cracked with the next words she said, "I couldn't bear to think that any of that could be my fault…but it is. If I wasn't here, none of this would have happened, everything would have been the same way it has always been." Bitter tears began to run down her face again, silent, but that did nothing to lessen their impact on me, seeing her like this filled me with self-hatred. I was furious with myself for doing this to her; she never deserved this. I was instantly filled with self-loathing, as all my suspicions compounded down on top of me, in the back of my head I always knew this was selfish, and wrong. And I loved her too much for that.

I stood up forcefully, barely able to control the acrimony that was boiling up to my throat, burning like bile. Pacing, I rushed my steps across the width of my room, and then back again. I tried to focus on anything, the rhythm of my steps on the marble floor, the black and white of the room but it was no use. If it did not die down soon, I would have to leave. No one ever saw me like this, and that was due in large part to the fact that I very seldom let myself get this way…

I lifted my head up from my hands with some effort when I heard him stand up so suddenly. The look on his face temporarily distracted me from my own despair, he had gone stone pale, all the blood drained from his face, which was contorted into an expression of self-deprecating rage that even I had no difficulty recognizing. But once again I couldn't help but notice how excruciatingly beautiful he was, maybe especially now, as his flawless mouth was twisted into a snarl over his teeth and his brow was creased downward into a scowl. I sat silently and watched him continue to pace, withdrawn and paying no apparent attention to me when suddenly he rasped, "Persephone." I hesitated. "Yes?"

"Tell me something," he commanded; I could see his fists shaking at his sides.

"What can I do?" my voice shook; I was only used to seeing Hades in careful control, this side was unsettling, and I knew it was because of me. I felt so childish as I tried my best to keep my composure, to show him that I wasn't going collapse, or cry or be upset; I avoided anything that would remind him of my unspoken accusation: we both knew that if he hadn't taken me, the earth wouldn't be suffering so.

"Do you want to go back to your home?" he stopped pacing, but wouldn't meet my eyes, he just continued to glare straight ahead.

Despite everything I had seen today, through all the death and grief, I was still horrified at the question. Earlier I had contended with the possibility of leaving this place, and everything that I had: this freedom, this independence, and this love. All of which I had barely gotten to experience, and I thought to myself, _I'll be able to get through it. After all, it's what best for my world, for all of those people. _I suppose it was only my conscience that motivated me then. But standing there before him, I could almost feel the gaping hole that returning home would rip into me. My chest tightened in plain reaction to the thought, I couldn't possibly leave now, not after everything that had happened between us.

I eventually stammered a response, "N-no. I don't want to go home."

His head snapped over to look at my face; I tilted my chin up in a desperate sort of defiance. He seemed mad at me now, "You what?" he demanded.

"I can't go home," I whispered.

"Why not?" He demanded again, his voice full of feeling.

I knew my answer didn't make any sense, and would probably make him that much angrier but I said it anyway. "I want to stay with you." It came out sounding much less assertive than I had intended. I ventured a glance up at his face, something sparked in his eyes that looked like elation and relief, but he quickly masked it with an unwavering expression of strong disapproval. He paused for a moment, and then said as if he were trying to convince himself, "But you have to go home."

I started to protest, "But I l—" he interrupted me mid-sentence, yelling now, "Do you really not see why it is imperative that you return?" his faced was pained, but his voice was outraged, "Your people, your world, your…life…is all back there waiting for you to return, and yet you wait here with me." He was rushing his words now, sounding more agitated as he spoke, "How can you be blind to this? Do you not understand the unnecessary torture your world is going through, and can you not see the glaring disparities between you and this place?" He scoffed at me, his eyebrows furrowed downwards as he condescended, "You do not belong here. You, the delicate Goddess who tends to flowers, living here, in the very depth of hell with everything that is so vile and disgusting…"

I was stunned, momentarily unable to form a response. Was this the man who told me he loved me just a night past? I stood up cautiously from the bed, my mind racing with possible solutions. But I was just as impulsive as ever, and before I could think of another reason why he might be saying these things to me, "Well I suppose you should have thought of that before you kidnapped me" I quipped acidly. I hadn't meant to say that, it was just the first thing out of my mouth, which isn't always how I feel; but at least now I could judge his reaction. If he conceded, then he would be showing me that he really does wish me to leave, and if not, then there was another intention behind his words.

"So you want to go home" he muttered, momentarily distracted from his diatribe by my remark "It is only fair". "No. I am home." I said softly.

His voice was stern and even as he corrected me, "This is not your home. Forget about me being angry with you; forget about everything else. What it all really comes down to is that you should not be here, not in the Underworld and not with me."

"But—" I started to interject. "No. Let me say this. This, being with me, is wrong. It is not good for you; it is not how things are supposed to be. When you go back, you will have people to tend to, and a mother to console, and you will have to find someone else. I am sure it will not be difficult for you." He finished with an agonized note in his voice, his beautiful face grim. I started to panic a little, now that I knew what he was doing. He was going to push me out for my own good. I knew I should go back, but not with the intention of finding someone new. That was the part that killed me; he thought that I needed to love someone else. "What are you saying?" Was all I could get out, the lump that grew in my throat was threatening to choke me. He stepped a little closer to me and said in such a low voice that I had to strain to hear him, "I am saying that you need to leave me. Leave here, regardless of any decision I made before whether or not it was fair. The only way to fix it is for you to be taken back to where you really belong."

I froze. So that was it. He wanted me to leave, just vanish like some sort of bright hallucination amid all the gray, as if nothing that happened here was worth fighting for or worth remembering. It was all for nothing.

"Is that what this is about? Whether or not I should be with you?" I challenged, newly angry.

"You saw it yourself. You have people who need you." His face suddenly took on a new hardness. His expression was cold, and detached.

"But that's not why you're saying these things. Let me worry about my people. Tell me the real reason." I was beside myself with anger now, _why couldn't he just say what he really felt?_

"Like I said before, you shouldn't be with me. I would say that it is simply for the benefit of the world but, our duties and our feelings are so hopelessly conflicted and tangled that they cannot be separated." He looked as if he was trying to fix his face in an expression of nonchalance, and even disdain, as if the dilemma was simply a nuisance that needed to be dealt with. If the answer was that obvious and so trivial, then he was either lying to me now, or lied to me last night. So I asked him, a little afraid of the answer, "But do you love me?"

"That is not the important question." He answered in a voice that begged me not to press the question.

"Why isn't it? Answer me, do you love me like you said you did?" I shouted, my eyes watering in frustration. I needed to hear it. If he didn't love me, he would have to tell me directly.

She paused expectantly; I could not lie to her anymore about the reason that she needed to leave. I had the feeling that even if I did convince her that it was not right to live here just for me, that she would find some way around it. I resigned, "I do, and I always will."

She shivered visibly. "And I love you too. I know it's irrational, and had you asked me what I would do in this situation before all this; I wouldn't have hesitated to tell you that the earth was more important, but now…now I only know how I feel about you, and how my heart would be inconsolable if I had to leave you." She looked up at me and dared me with her eyes to contradict her. I would never dream of it, not after I saw how close she was to breaking apart from conflicting wants, and needs and duties and dreams. So if being distant and cold did not work, I would just have to hope that I could keep myself away from her long enough to not cause the tremendous damage I feared it would when someone inevitably came looking to take her back, and away from me. If I let this go any farther, no matter how much I really did need her, it would only destroy her later, and maybe me too…

So all I could say to her was, "This isn't right" I knew I did not sound convincing. And in her face, I could see at once that she knew why I was doing this. She understood me in a way that I could never hope to expect from anyone else. In such a short time, she had taken everything that I am and absorbed it into her self. She looked up at me, tired and disconsolate again, all the conviction drained out of her. She stepped forward, reached up and placed a light kiss on my lips. I stood there; my posture remained completely upright, frozen. My heart raced at the simple gesture; I felt my sense of control slipping and I clenched my fists at my sides. All I wanted to do was wrap my arms around her and kiss her, every fiber of me, every tiny piece of me wanted to be with her, to comfort her. My heart slammed against my ribs to be closer to her, fought against its dark and distant nature to be hers. "Please don't," I breathed. I just wanted to make the break cleaner and easier for both of us when the time came. And it would come.

"If I must go, please just let me have one night to be with you." Her tone was anguished and exhausted. She turned her back to me, and faced the bed. I could not see her face, but I saw that her head was lowered with her hair spilled over her shoulders, and I feared that she was breaking. I wondered how it came to this. How could two people become so connected in such a short time, and how could so much of my life depend upon the happiness of this one girl? I shoved the question aside, because it no longer mattered how it happened, just that it did, and I would not deny her the thing that I could feel that she needed, because I needed it just the same. I required it, and I knew that saving tonight would not make her absence any less painful. At least we could have this…

I had no fight left. I gave in to everything that I promised myself I would not do a moment ago. I took Persephone by the outsides of her arms, turned her and brought her roughly to me. I bent my head to hers to return the kiss that she had given me before… And then I was falling, falling away from the turmoil of the day, and the threat that tomorrow could hold. For now, the entirety of my existence was devoted to possibly the only perfect moment I would have with this beautiful creature I was now desperately holding on to. And I exhaled…

I inhaled violently. All I could think of was the pressure of his lips on mine, the tight grip of his hands on my shoulders and the insanely intoxicating smell of his breath as it rushed from his lungs and into mine. He was kissing me, and that was everything right now. The earth, my mother, all of it could wait for tonight. I shed all my thoughts, like one sheds old and heavy garments that have become soggy in the water of care and responsibility. Piece by piece they flaked off as I fell into him and away from the world. I tucked my chin under slightly, and the urgency with which he sought my lips again took my breath away. His arms slid down and wrapped around my back to pull me close so that I could feel every line of his body as it pressed against mine. The kiss was strong and tender at first, filled with earnest need, but when my lips parted to his tongue, I was lost to something else entirely.

I was completely wrapped up in Hades' arms, his hands drifted to the back of my head and I felt his fingers tangle themselves in my hair. I finally loosed my arms, so that I could rest them on his chest, and then up to his neck. Each kiss, each parting of our lips or touch of our tongues clouded my mind over in a haze of twilight blues and purples in which the only thing that was clear was the heat that was erupting below my stomach, and the perfect vision of his face as he looked down at me.

Her eyes were half lidded when she looked at me. Our foreheads touched, and our lips just grazed each other's a time or two. My arms encircled her lower back, and pulled her closer. Persephone kissed me again, a kiss that was sweet, and passionate and real; and I responded. She gave a small moan that ground the last of my resistance into dust. "Persephone…" I growled, as I moved her backwards on to the bed. She clung to me as we both sank down…

And we fell together, Hades' weight on top of me, his arms on either side of me, like an iron cage. I reached down tentatively for the buttons of his shirt as he laid a string of kisses on my throat. My hands shook as I undid them, not from nervousness, but from anticipation. Hades noticed, took my hands in his and kissed them both in reassurance. Then he shed his shirt leaving his pale, chiseled chest open for me to run my hands over. I was awed at each perfect line of his body, from the taut lines of his throat to the stretch of muscles to his shoulder and down.

I slowly traced each line of his back with my fingers, feeling his muscles tense and strain along his shoulders and spine as he held himself over me. He dipped his head low and kissed the skin of my chest, so that all I could see was his shining dark hair. I could feel him pull gently at the dress robe I was wearing, so I arched my back upwards and he slipped an arm under by rib cage and inside the robe. Staying connected, we managed to remove the robe from between us. And even after, he still held me up with the arm wrapped around my waist, and paused to take another kiss from me, his other hand touching the side of my face. My breath grew shorter and shallower as is hands ran over my bare skin. I closed my eyes and took in each sensation, and yet even behind my eyelids I saw stars; striking arrangements of white lights that grew brighter and brighter with each touch from Hades. I gasped at the intensity of the moment, and let my head hang back. He scooped up the rest of me, moved to the top of the bed and pulled the covers aside. I sat perched at the edge of the side and Hades stood before me. His body made a magnificent V shape from shoulder to hip, never bulky; just smooth lines and angles. He looked down at me adoringly, hungrily. And for once, I forgot to be embarrassed. I returned the look and tugged on his hips to bring him closer. I kissed his flat stomach as he undressed, breathing in the sandalwood scent that I remembered so well, and then climbed in next to me.

We took hungrily from one another, tasting tongues, mouths, skin; rolling over and over. He kissed my lips, neck, breasts, stomach, everywhere he could, as if he were memorizing every dip and curve of my body. He held me while I was on top of him, and sheltered me protectively when I was beneath him, as if he were afraid that I would somehow be taken from him. And I strove fiercely to show him that I would never, could never been taken from him, that he had every part of me: my heart, my mind and my body. I took his angel's face in my hands and caught his eyes; they were a smoldering gray, like dying embers in a fire. He seemed only more heartbreakingly beautiful to me now than he did the first day I saw him, if that was possible.

"I love you." I said, my voice hoarse.

His eyes were burning with intensity, "Do you trust me?"

I swallowed, trying to force my mind to make words into sentences, "Yes, I do"

He nudged a leg between mine, and gently moved into me. Sensation exploded in my skull. I gasped; he froze at my sharp intake of breath. "Persephone…" he trailed off. His face was strained in concern.

"I'm…alright…" I panted, "Please, just…" I shifted myself under him, to which he responded by ducking his head down and growling into my neck. His voice sent a shiver up my spine, and he hungrily rejoined.

We moved together, Hades and I. Passion, and excitement and ardor, growing and building and swirling between us, as absolutely everything fell away. I felt as if we were both being pulled and pushed in every direction, all I could hear was his breath in my ear, and the racing of my own heart. I was moved by the completeness, the total devotion of the love we had between us here, and it increased a hundred-fold as I felt something white-hot and blazing spark in my stomach and I found Hades' eyes and saw it reflected there too. Which each movement, it rose up and grew until it threatened to swallow me whole… I cried out in amazement, and heard Hades gasp as well. "Ahh…" I choked out, a torrent of feverish heat swarmed over my body as I was being pushed toward a breaking point. I let it come; I rushed to it, holding Hades as close as I could, though I knew it would never be enough. We continued to crash together as wave upon wave of the most wonderful thing I have ever felt washed over me again and again. It was like the stars behind my eyes had exploded in my head, leaving me with nothing but pure, warm, blinding whiteness.

I heaved for breath, though it would only come in short gasps. Hades was struggling for breath as well, and so we lay there together, and this time let sleep overtake us…

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	13. Chapter 13

This is the third stanza from Robert Frost's Out, out. Sorry this chapter is a little short, but I thought it should be cut off here rather than making the two ideas that I had get squashed together... The next one should be up shortly. I promise :)

As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. So thanks to those of you who review regularly, you know who you are.

And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,  
No longer blown hither and thither;  
The last long aster is gone;  
The flowers of the witch-hazel wither;  
The heart is still aching to seek,  
But the feet question 'Whither?'

Chapter 13

I am young. The sun is warm on my face and it wakes me up from my afternoon nap. The dew in my hair dried long ago leaving it knotted and wild. I slowly roll on to my side and then stretch upward toward the crystal blue sky. I am acutely aware of each preternatural muscle in my body. It explodes with strength, with possibility. I stand in the tall grass and look at the imprint my body has left there. I close my eyes and lift my face to the sun, drawing its heat and light into me. It fills my chest until I feel like my ribs will burst open with sunlight. I am happy. I reach my hands out in front of me, over the grass and concentrate on lifting. Think only of air. Only of upward motion, of circulation from the ground, to the sky. I turn my palms downward and pinch my fingers together, as if I am drawing up sheets from a bed. And from the earth comes a light swirl of glittering pink and blue that winds itself around the blades of grass that I smashed. I flick my fingers up, and the grass is normal again. No sign of my nap remains.

A twig snaps in the distance. My head jerks in its direction. Something was wrong, someone who shouldn't be here, was. Insides roaring, I snap the hood of my cloak up, concealing my face. I feel the tension in my muscles again. The Goddess in me is screaming for the fight, each nerve firing, each muscle tensing and coiling back. I begin to walk back toward the temple, my eyes narrow to slits and scan the field for signs of the intruder. I walk faster. Maybe it is my nerves that are making me paranoid. My heartbeat quickens. This field is the last place anything scary could be hiding. The flowers still smiled benignly, and the grass still shown greenly, both swaying ever so slightly. Another noise. I begin to run now, leaning forward and gathering speed. My feet run so quickly that I am inches above the ground, like I have wings on my ankles. But all I can feel are my instincts, they are primal and they are quick and fierce. I know I am being chased because I feel the pull from the speed of another thing flying behind me. Quick like lightning, blinding white and sickly green and purple in the corner of my eye. Lightning.

I know at once who is chasing me, and I have not a prayer of escaping. I feel my eyes become like rabbit's eyes. Frantic. Wild. I am caught.

An iron grip shoots forward and grabs my arm. I am sent off balance and my assailant and I careen in to the air at top speed for a moment, and are sent tumbling end over end back toward the earth. My back hits the hard ground with a loud smack that rings through my bones. I am stunned and my mouth gapes open wide like a fish struggling for breath. Only then do I see my pursuer. He is glorious like the flash of lightning, the blaze of the corona around the sun. He is the flash, the impulse, the brightest instant of heat and temper. His hair is a golden mess of unruly curls. His eyes are blue like the sky this morning, but there is a hardness in them that reminds me of the flinty stones in the river that don't look sharp until you step on them. His mouth is smiling at me now. A disgusting and lascivious sneer that spread across his well-shaped cheeks. I spit in his face, "So the rumors are true, Zeus." I hiss. He shakes his face clean, careful to leave his arms pinning me down against the ground. He looks as if the idea has struck him as quite novel, "Quite, Demeter." he leers.

He leans down around takes a huge breath, smelling the skin on my neck. I hate him for it. As he grinds his hips against me, I can feel what he has in mind for me. I would pound my fists on his chest, but my hands are useless. I clamp my legs together, feeling his legs push at mine. I struggle some more, and I manage to spit out venomously, "How would your wife feel if she could see you now?" My voice is a low growl, still feral from the chase. The smile instantly vanishes from his face and is replaced by a terrifying , black look. I see thunderclouds move into his eyes. In a burst of rage, his leg wrenches mine open. I bite down on my lip, but I can still feel the tears spill down to my temples and onto my scalp. I am taken.

My eyes glaze over, and the part of me that is still just a girl cries out. The Goddess has left, and there is nothing but a girl who has been caught and laid bare and defenseless. I cried as a gazed absently over his rocking shoulders. In the distance I can see a woman, dressed in a long green robe the color of foam scooped from the ocean. Far from everything that was happening to me, I squint and realize that it isn't her robe that's green, it's her skin. She glows and radiates warm greenness that even the moss on trees would envy. She bends down and approaches from what looks like an impossible distance. Her pearl colored hair sweeps over my forehead as she whispers in to my ear, "Just wait, love, please just wait." I frown. Nothing has changed. She does not rip this man away and save me. She is not an avenging angel. I am still helpless. I continue to cry silent tears. Through my blurred vision I see her smile a wistful smile and lean down again to kiss my forehead. And then she is gone.

When it is over I just lay there alone. I want to curl into a little ball but I have no strength and no will. Three days passed like this, before a pair of faithful attendants found me lying in my field. When they take me back to my temple, I realize that there is something in me. Growing, gathering strength. To my surprise, I am not repulsed. This little girl, I knew it was a girl, would be mine alone to love. She would be my second chance.

I opened my eyes and touched my forehead. The gray washed over me again, the vibrancy of my daydream long gone. Lately my temple was made of nothing but shadows. There was no love here, no light or color. I realized with a start that last night was the first night I had slept since my daughter was stolen from me. I gathered my legs up and rubbed my ankles, for a moment I thought I would feel the crunch of feathers, but there was nothing but smooth skin. This has to end and she will come back to me, I thought to myself. I stood up with more conviction than I could have mustered an hour ago. Enough.

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	14. Chapter 14

So this poem is the lovely, "Nothing Gold Can Stay" by Robert Frost. I will continue to apologize for the wait, but I'm not sure how much good it will do...forgive me?

Anyhow, let me know what you think. I love all of you who continue to review, but some new names/faces would be much appreciated!

Also let me know about any errors, my editing is--um-- mediochre at best

Nature's first green is gold,  
Her hardest hue to hold.  
Her early leaf's a flower;  
But only so an hour.  
Then leaf subsides to leaf.  
So Eden sank to grief,  
So dawn goes down to day.  
Nothing gold can stay.

Chapter 14

I awoke with a start. I quickly took in my surroundings and was only momentarily confused before I remembered where I was. I had been having the strangest dream. A dream about feathered wings growing out of dry, dusty bones, and sheets of light green moss turning pearly white as they hung from gangly looking trees. My cheek brushed against something smooth and I jumped again. I caught the scent of something familiar as I turned over, and the night rushed back to me. Hades was sleeping soundly next to me. I could barely see the motion of his chest rising and falling with his breath. He looked more peaceful now than I had ever seen him; without its sternness or turbulence, his face was smooth and calm.

Filmy, yellow-gray light filtered in through slats carved in the high stone ceiling; dust swirled lazily in the beams. It gave the white sheets and pillows a soft, blurred outline. Or maybe it was my eyes adjusting to the morning that made it feel so serene and contented. I tucked one arm under my head and watched him a moment longer. I reached a hand out to his face. I hesitated, but then stretched my hand out again. I squinted my eyes a bit, concentrating on the strong line of his jaw, and the angle it made with his sharp cheekbones. So it caught me totally by surprise when Hades shot a hand up and caught my palm in his. His eyes were still closed as he brought my hand to his mouth and clumsily kissed my fingertips, one by one. My breath shuddered as I exhaled. I stared at our hands, at his mouth; when I looked up, stormy gray eyes met mine. I blushed, and got light-headed as all the blood rushed to my face. A slow smile crept brilliantly across his face. It was too much, he was blindingly beautiful when he smiled. Unable to keep it in check, joy exploded in my chest at the simple sight of his curved lips and perfect teeth. Laughing, I flung myself over the small space between us and wrapped my arms around his neck. Through the dark coppery tangle of my hair, I heard Hades laugh softly at my outburst. "What is this?" he said through another smile that made my heart skip a beat.

I pulled back slightly from his arms to take him in. I blushed again, feeling enormously silly and juvenile and maybe just a little bit embarrassed. "Well, I, um." I paused and took a breath. "It's just amazing to see you smile." I admitted. The smile started to slip from his face, and his eyes took on a strange look. I faltered, confused and started to remove myself from the arms that had so tenderly wrapped around my waist. Stupid, I cursed at myself. He finally opens up and comforts you, gives himself to you, and this is what you do? Act like an inexperienced, silly child? Oh god, he never said that he loved me back, I panicked. What if he doesn't feel that way about me. Oh, what if this didn't mean that to him? He tried to push me away before…but I was so sure that he was just doing what he thought would be for my own good. Was I pushy? I was pushy wasn't I? I was one of those girls… I shook my head in embarrassment, and continued to extricate myself from his arms.

"Persephone?" Hades' velvety voice questioned me. I couldn't look at him, so I turned my face completely away. Inescapable iron hands yanked me backwards flat onto my back, my hair flew over my face. Though my eyes couldn't see due to the mess of hair covering my face, my ears were rewarded with another small laugh, it was just a breeze of a laugh, soft and warm like the late early afternoon sun. I stopped struggling, stunned by the sound. He was amused, and I was confounded. My eyes were already searching by the time he gently cleared my long hair from my face. He was leaning close over me, and his hands lingered by my cheek as he brushed my hair away. "Why did you turn from me Persephone?" he asked, more serious than he looked. I was entirely peeved. Didn't the smile wash from his face like the berry stains I left on the large boulders I played among as a child? It seemed a weak reason now, looking back. I frowned pensively. I suppose I just wasn't sure what to do after last night, I didn't know where things stood between us, but I definitely knew something changed. I was jumping at the smallest signs, how unlike me. It was just that nothing had ever mattered this much before. I had never been more vulnerable to another person's thoughts and opinions than I was this morning. I returned my gaze back to his glorious face, feeling more sure of myself. "You just looked like something was wrong, and I guess I just assumed it was something that I had done, since nothing else has happened to you this morning." I cut myself off early to prevent babbling.

His hand cradled my face and he bent down to me and lightly placed his lips over mine in a closed kiss. I sighed as he pulled back. "Nothing could be wrong this morning." he declared. I cocked an eyebrow, amused. "Then what in the world chased that beautiful smile off of your face like that?" I asked incredulously.

He balked, and shifted his gaze away from mine as if he thought I might be able to read what was going on in his head through his eyes like a scene in a play. Still looking away he said, "I was thinking about something in particular." And there was that anxious look again. It was so strange to see all this emotion coming from him, I thought that loving him would mean getting used to the reserved and cold way he kept himself. But it seemed that I wasn't imagining things when I predicted that there was someone under that façade that was so much more than anyone gave him credit for anymore. Hades had not grown stale from the years spent in his world of shadows, he had grown calculating and shrewd. He knew when and how to control his passions and emotions; his duty demanded nothing less than callous determination to execute justice. But I shivered when I remembered that he had proven that all those years had merely stored up his ability to show how appreciated a woman could be, not wasted it. I suspected that I was indeed the only one to ever discover this fact, and it was not something I would soon forget.

But something nagged in the farthest recess of my mind. A line floated across my mind's eye, shimmering for a moment in a tragic inevitable procession…nothing gold can stay. As I stared into his shining eyes I tried not to let my smile falter even for an instant. Something unidentifiable was worming and twisting in my head, giving me a certain feeling of uneasiness that I could not reason away no matter how desperately I needed Hades and everything in front of me to be true. How can something so right come at the cost of all my people? It was unfair, and in blatant rebellion I shoved it away. As it reluctantly passed, a part of me whispered to it that I knew what I had to do.

Hades cleared his throat and began to speak in resolved tones that I had heard him use to address the more virtuous souls that had sifted through the gates. It was clear, not harsh, but it seemed somehow formal. "Persephone, I realize that my actions must be at least a little bit confusing. I hardly understand them myself. But I am sure of two things." he paused. I looked up expectantly, wishing my heart would stop pounding so loudly in my ears. He continued the pause in his speech by running his tongue over his lips and bending down achingly slowly to my lips, to kiss me so gently it was painful. I wanted to hear what he had to say, but I could tell he was teasing me on purpose, so I let him maintain this state of agony until one of us broke. Without lifting my head to add pressure to his lips (I wouldn't give in after all) I leisurely, almost imperceptibly, began to part and close my lips in time with his kisses. I could feel a crooked grin sneak across his lips as he sensed my game. Wickedly, he snaked his tongue lightly against the inside edge of my bottom lip, making sure to keep his lips at the proper distance, only barely touching mine. I had one last resort before I completely lost my mind with anticipation. As he leaned further over me to support himself, I pressed my arms hard into the bed and arced my upper back, pressing myself against his bare chest. A rumbling growl ripped from deep in his throat, and he hurriedly crushed his mouth over mine in a ferocious open kiss that our bodies imitated as our arms wrapped tightly around each other, my leg drawing up at his side, about to push him all the way onto me. I bit at his lips, remembering the words he left off, trying to coax them out with my tongue.

I broke the kiss. Hades' arms were supporting him on either side of my pillow as lay, centered, over me. I sighed as our foreheads met. "I win." He snorted. "You cheated."

I smiled. "But I believe you were saying something…" His air of joking left him, replaced by a profoundly earnest look. His eyes burned into mine, "Persephone," he said, "The first thing I am absolutely sure of, is that last night meant more to me than I can ever hope to say." then he kissed me lightly. "The second, is, that I love you." For so simple a declaration, it set my heart on fire. I struggled to breathe as I melted right there between his arms. But he continued still. He lifted himself off of me to sit up, and easily lifted me to a sitting position. I could feel my eyebrows raise as I watched his brow furrow upward in hope. "Persephone, will you be my wife?"

I was stunned. "Hades, are you serious?" I asked, unbelieving. He nodded, as solemn as I had ever seen him, all expression wiped from his face. "Yes!" I cried as I flung myself at him again. This time we both went toppling over the edge of the bed and landed in a heap of limbs and sheets on the floor.

I had said yes, but as we made love there on the floor, that worming sensation crept back into the deepest and bottom-most edge of my mind. I tried so hard to push it away…

Reviews please? What will it hurt, just let me know what you think.


	15. Chapter 15

The Poem is Emily Dickinson's "I Never Hear the Word Escape" Also. Thanks to all the reviewers who have taken the time to write something about this story so that I know it's being read and not just clicked on.

If this chapter doesn't make sense to you just say so, I have that sort of muddled feeling in my head that happens when you've been trying to write for too long. :(

Anyway, next chapter ought to be up soon. And fyi, I think the next myth I'm going to work on is the story of Eros and Psyche (which is another favorite of mine).

Enjoy.

I never hear the word "escape"

Without a quicker blood,  
A sudden expectation,  
A flying attitude.

I never hear of prisons broad  
By soldiers battered down,  
But I tug childish at my bars, --  
Only to fail again!

Chapter 15

Another day passed, and I found myself staring at my reflection in the mirror. "Just lovely…" Nyx sighed appreciatively. I was nervous, in fact, I felt like I might vomit as I ran my hands quickly over the front of my gown. "Is everything ok?" I asked her, "are you sure there's nothing missing-- nothing I'm forgetting about…like, you know, a brain, or underwear, or something else important like that…" I looked over at the small girl who offered me an assuring smile that did nothing to assuage the jolt of nerves that flared in the pit of my stomach. "While one may never underestimate the staggering importance of both, I would hope you have enough trust in me to not let you forget them." She said with a smirk.

My breath pushed out quickly in what could barely be called a laugh. I turned from the mirror to face her, and took her hands in mine, mostly to calm my uncontrollable shaking. "Nyx, of course I do, I'm sorry. You've done so much for me, and I wish I could do something for you in return." She shook her head silently, and I continued, "I always imagined my wedding day with my mother being excited and fretting over me the way she does…but I have you, and that will be enough." I finished with a stout sniff, but tears had been forming in the wells of my eyes. I refused to let them leak over the brim, because though they may be wistful and stained gray with regret, I knew my mother would never understand the decision that I was making.

I remembered the way my mother would look at me sometimes, from the corner of her eye, reminding me that I am never truly alone. How burdened this had made me feel before, and now I almost missed it. I still ached when I thought of home, yet now it was accompanied by a stinging sense of urgency that became increasingly hard to ignore, and when that mingled with my love for my future husband and my growing sense of loyalty to his kingdom, my insides churned and twisted uncomfortably, my head spun from option to option. But more and more they felt like plans of escape. I felt that after today, somehow, I would never fully belong in the Underworld, or my home. My marriage would never be accepted above, and my people could not go ignored by their caretaker. Still, under all this conflict, there was a quiet voice that said that Hades had something for me that I needed to hold on to, but it never told me how I was to balance dark and light, night and day, love and duty. And so I had no idea if I what I was about to do was right. No guiding hand, it was like I was alone in a dark room full of people shouting directions at me. It was deafening.

And so I walked, like mourner in a funeral procession, to meet my love in the ceremony hall where I would be married. Nyx carried the train of my dress, and shifted it behind me as I stopped to take one last look in one of the vast hall mirrors. My wedding gown was stark white, with a full bottom that billowed out into a long train. The neckline pulled tightly across my chest in a straight, sharp angle that wrapped around my arms to make off the shoulder sleeves. The bodice continued down my torso in the same fashion, constricting my ribs and stomach with its thick, pristine fabric. I wore white gloves that extended up above my elbows, with silk buttons at the very top, that mimicked the line of buttons down the back of my dress, each placed impossibly close to the other. My hair was arranged in a smooth coil at the nape of my neck, and along my hairline ran a string of dripping diamonds that ran down the center of my forehead. Cold diamonds were also hung from my ears and from my neck. My eyes were rimmed in kohl again, but this time I wore nothing on my lips, leaving them pale and understated.

Nyx touched my shoulder, and I jumped a little, despite my efforts to match my icy looking exterior. She wordlessly handed me a bouquet of white chrysanthemums bound at the stems by a length of satiny white ribbon. I took it in both gloved hands as the great mahogany doors to the hall swung open, creating a chilled gust that made my dress ruffle and several petals fly loose. The hall was vast, but empty. I swallowed and closed my eyes, trying to imagine many warm, smiling faces. I ignored the obvious echo of my footsteps on the black marble floor as I began slowly down the aisle. Thanatos stood at Hades' right shoulder, bearing witness to the event, as Nyx would stand to my left. The walk that looked like miles took only seconds, and before I knew it, I raised my head and Hades was in front of me.

My breath hitched in my throat the way it always did when the sight of him caught me off my guard. He was absolutely stunning dressed in all black, with his customary high collared jacket and straight black pants. The flash of his silver eyes was even more apparent beneath the sheet of black hair that hung smooth over his forehead. The corner of his mouth turned up involuntarily as he looked at me, and I noticed his hand flex and straighten at his sides.

I was filled again with rolling waves of hope and joy that flooded my doubts and doubts and fears, polishing over the sharp edges of worry and nervousness like smooth stones in a river. I felt my chest lift with this renewed sense of purpose, how could I have forgotten so quickly? I knew that I loved him, my heart insisted upon it. Deep down, I knew that this love we had would sing me to sleep every night, whisper words of comfort in my ears, create worlds of light and color and magic in my head that would always keep me safe and happy. And how I longed for it to be so. Happier thrills of excitement squirmed in my belly, shot all the way up to my chest and trickled down to the tips of my fingers. Now, the ceremony could not begin fast enough. I handed my bouquet to Nyx, and Hades reached for my hands…

…I took her hands in mine as I prepared to do something I had never imagined I would. I was about to make vows that would bind me eternally in love and by heavenly law, though I knew not which was the more formidable authority, to a woman who stood willingly before me. Persephone was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen, and this morning she looked inhumanly beautiful. Goddess though she was, she had always retained the appearance of a human girl; but now she stood before me filled with ethereal light that seemed to emanate from every pore, like lights sparkling off the facets of a diamond. She would be a perfect Queen for the Underworld.

Her hands felt tiny as I held them in mine, and I felt the smallest tremors run through them. I ran my thumbs over the tops of her hands to soothe their shaking, and it seemed to work. I took a breath, as the ceremony began. It was simple, really. First the bonds of love are ensured forever with spoken vows, and then there is the ritual that would bind Persephone and I together under the Laws of the Pantheon, as my wife and the ruler of the Underworld. She would eat a seed from the sacred fruit, the pomegranate.

I would be the first to recite my vows. I steadied my racing heart, took a deep breath and said, "Persephone, a name which once tortured me with unattainable possibilities, now brings me a joy which I could never have hoped to imagine in my next million years and beyond. Your light, your soul, your heart, have all shown me what it is to love and to be loved. My sole purpose in this existence now remains to return the blessing of your love, and to serve you as your husband, should you allow me that honor." She looked at me with shining eyes and said, "I do."

She bowed her head for a moment before looking back up at me to recite her vows. She gave a wide smile, and then bit her lip. It was a precious gesture that my memory endeavored to preserve, though I knew any image my mind would save would pale in comparison to the real thing. She began, "Hades, name of the one I have learned to love. Whose exterior seemed hard and cold, but whose heart was waiting to show warm affection. You have taught me more than I imagined there was to know in this world, things that I thought I already knew. You too, have shown me what it is to love and be loved. What it is to be kind and gentle. My only wish is to remain here with you as your wife, should you allow me that honor."

It was my turn to look up with watery eyes. "I do." I managed to choke out through the emotion that had knotted my throat. I leaned down over our hands and kissed her lips. I could feel her rise slightly on the toes to meet me, and return the kiss earnestly. In that moment we breathed each other in, and I knew that her smell was something that I could not live without, not now, not ever. I only hoped that she felt the same.

We parted, and Thanatos handed me the pomegranate, picked fresh this morning, and cleaved in half to display clusters of seeds encased in dripping wet flesh that shone transparent crimson. I saw Persephone's eyes widen in anticipation, I felt mine widen with something else. Like a pinprick, I could sense that I had a visitor in my kingdom. A messenger was carefully weaving his way through the passages of my domain, right up to the very doors of this hall. There was only one messenger with the authority and the audacity to intrude so boldly on the lord of the Underworld himself-- Mercury, the winged messenger of the gods. This could only mean one thing, the time had come at last for Persephone to be collected and brought back to the earth by royal mandate. Thanatos looked pointedly at me, waiting for instruction. I gave him a hard look, which told him to do nothing. If I got Persephone to swallow the seed now, before the messenger came through that doorway, his whole trip would be in vain. Hurriedly, I selected a seed from the pomegranate half, and moved to place it on Persephone's lips. "My Lord?" She questioned, her delicate brow creased in a frown. My glare refocused on her face. "What is it?", she asked again. Each word she uttered wasted seconds, seconds which brought Mercury closer and closer to my palace. She read the sudden hardness on my face when I had sensed the intrusion, and I mentally kicked myself for constantly letting my guard down around her. I grew impatient with her delay. "Nothing. Just eat the seed, darling." I said as calmly as I could.

But now she was suspicious, damn that stubborn mind of hers, "Hades. Tell me what is going on. Something is wrong, I can see it plainly on your face." Enough, I thought. I turned to Thanatos for a moment, giving him a meaningful look, slipped the seed discreetly into my mouth, and turned back around to Persephone. "What could be wrong today?" I said, carefully concealing the seed. I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around her waist, pressing her gently to me. The frown began to melt off her face as she glossed over the suspicions in her mind. I pressed my cold lips over hers, and in that instant the doors burst violently open. Thanatos was knocked backwards, his attempts to keep the door closed had apparently failed, and Mercury sauntered quietly in. Persephone tried to pull away to see what happened, but I held one hand tight against her waist, and the other at the back of her head keeping her pinned to me. The kiss was no longer gentle as I wrenched her mouth open, taking advantage of her confusion, and forced my tongue into her mouth to drop the slick little seed at the back of her throat.

I pulled slowly away and released her as she choked and sputtered, bent over and out of breath. She gasped and sucked air desperately into her lungs, it pained me to watch her suffer so, but I made no move to help her. It was a necessary measure that she would not have understood; the messenger would have stormed in, carrying the weight of Demeter's vengeance, to interrupt the wedding at exactly the right moment. I would not stand to let them take Persephone away from me, so I did what I had to.

Her lips were stained red from the juice on my tongue and lips, and she smeared it across her white gloves as she wiped her mouth harshly against the heavy fabric. The deep red stains it left on her gloves looked almost like blood, and the look she gave me indeed suggested that she had been wounded. It was a heartbreaking combination of confusion, betrayal and disgust.

I merely looked on as she realized what had happened. She screamed at me, fell to her knees and began to cry. I watched on as unyielding as a pillar of cold marble, as if the woman in front of me was nothing more than a common soul passing through my gates for judgment. Her cries sounded muffled and distant, as my ears grew familiarly deaf to begging, pleading and indignant speeches. I watched her cry as one watches an actor in a play. Vaguely, I wondered why this was not harder, but it all seemed so natural. Like I was returning home after being away for some time.

The scene when I arrived was a disaster. Hades had stolen Persephone against her will, and forced her to marry him. I watched as he jammed the seed down her throat. I watched as she fell apart in front of him, dissolving into tears. And I watched, as he did nothing. The look in his eyes was unnerving, distant and cold with no trace of anything that could be called a soul. I understood why everyone, even the gods, kept their distance. After all, there is nothing more dangerous than a god who has no emotion, he cannot be swayed one way or the other, and he cannot be manipulated or persuaded. He is absolute.

A chill ran down my spine. I decided that this was enough of a message to return to Zeus and Demeter. Tragic as it was, Persephone was no longer a child of the upper world but maybe something could still be done. She was forced, and this was an injustice, as overlooked as it remained in many other cases, I had the feeling that Demeter would pursue the issue. Which meant that there was still a possibility that Persephone could escape this horrible prison of shadows. I raced as quickly as I could back to the pantheon to tell of what I had seen this morning, hoping that something could be done.

Reviews pretty please.


	16. Chapter 16

This is the first stanza of William Blake's "Earth's Answer"

Once again I will apologize for any oversight of mine, with grammar, content, style, anything. If you see something that bothers you, let me know. If you see something you like, let me know. If you want me to read something of yours, so I can return the favor, say so and I will. I submit that I have no life besides class right now, so I have plenty of time.

lurve!

Earth raised up her head  
From the darkness dread and drear,  
Her light fled,  
Stony, dread,  
And her locks covered with grey despair.

Chapter 16

Mortals are, in a way, privileged beyond the telling of it. Their busy lives scramble hectically on, circling and winding, faster and faster until one day they find it. They run in any direction until they smack headfirst into a wall-- that wall being death. Death has a way of stopping you in your tracks, like the sight of a luscious young blonde with supple pink lips, and…generous…hips, shall we say. It absolutely stuns you, and for a moment, you aren't sure which way is up, or if you're even in a place where up still exists. When a mortal finds their death, it sometimes feels like he or she has lived their whole life with a blindfold on, to others it feels like they have been stalked all the lives, and for still some, it feels like Death was waiting for them all along if only they had stopped missing it and going in the wrong direction.

Like a clear swirl of water down a drain, mortal souls curve and bend and coil and roll over one another in a fluid, tumbling heap. And they are all spiraling down to the same thing. Death. To me, it seemed a great relief for them. An eternal pause from the sweating and toiling that consumed their being. I was not at all envious of their fragile state, my only point was, that regardless of whether they were beatific or depraved, they at least got a break. Lucky, to be able to escape one's mistakes simply by dying, when I had to stew in my "mistakes" for the greater portion of everlastingness. I huffed and shifted in my seat, lazily swirling a finger in the seeing bowl, which had begun to gather foggy mist on its surface, which clouded my bird's-eye view of a particular town below.

Footsteps clicked to my right, and Hera walked in, apparently busy with some matter or another. As she walked by, carrying an armful of scrolls, she bent over and blew into the seeing bowl. The mist dissipated instantly, scurrying over the brim and fading to the yellow marble floor. I didn't look up as she passed. "Is it difficult, husband?" She asked with a quiet smirk, taking a moment to stand in front of me.

I looked up and considered my wife for a moment, though I could barely see her face over the stack of scrolls she was carrying. She was dressed in light lilac robes, with matching lace-up sandals. Her eyes were still a warm green, but I knew how they could flash venomously when angered. And I know it isn't possible, but her light brown hair seemed faded somehow, almost graying. I frowned, when was the last time I noticed? Eh, I dismissed the thought. "Pray tell me, wife, is _what _difficult?" I responded, bored.

"Spending every waking moment being so outrageously self-absorbed." She answered with a falsely sweet smile and curt turn toward the exit of the hall. "HEEEERAA!" I yelled thunderously after her. She reappeared at the doorway with an exasperated look on her face. "Yes?" She quipped, lips tight. I normally let this sort of thing go, you know, just women being women. But there was something in her voice that I didn't like. "What in heaven is the matter with you?" I demanded.

She shifted the mass of scrolls in her arms, switching her weight from one leg to the other. "It's always the same with you!" she began loudly from across the room, "There you sit, high and mighty as you are, and you know absolutely nothing about people or their deaths. Oh don't look at me like that, I've seen you lazing about, practically drooling into that bowl of yours. Death means nothing to you but a way out of troubles that you in your arrogance create for yourself! Death is the end of _everything_ for most of them, after that there is nothing but eternal punishment, or wandering forgetfulness. Do you have any idea what that means? Honestly, for someone whose brother happens to be the ruler of the Underworld, you know surprisingly little. Well, maybe it isn't so surprising after all…" She finished in one tremendous breath and when she was finished, she looked relieved as if that had been waiting in the reserves for quite some time.

I was stunned for only a second, my wife was not a timid woman, but she rarely spoke out of turn this way; she preferred other methods for taking out her emotions. I recovered, and I was livid. Rage boiled violently up to my face and I began to tremor with anger. "How. Dare. You." I seethed through my teeth, "You are my wife, and you will not…", dark clouds began to swirl ominously, "EVER disrespect me."

Hera threw the scrolls down and they rolled all over the darkening room. Her eyes flashed violently they way I remembered, but I was too angry to be worried. Her hands balled into fists and the air around her seemed to charge with volatile electricity. "_Husband_," she spit the word out as an insult "…if you would only give me something to respect, you would never have a problem."

I charged toward her, kicking scrolls out of the way. Thunder rolled and cracked, and she braced herself, gathering huge orbs of glowing green energy at her sides.

"Umm…Excuse me?" a timid voice squeaked from the front entrance. Hera and I stopped mid crash to look at the messenger, but our energies did not, lightning cracked unexpectedly, inches from my face, and Hera's sickly-looking orbs exploded in her hands. My face was covered in black soot, and the marble had a jagged scorch march on it. Hera looked much worse, and I had to take a moment to chuckle at my wife. The explosions at her sides had shot her hair out of its bindings and stuck it in every different direction.

"I don't know what you're laughing at, because from where I stand you look downright ridiculous." She said smugly crossing her arms. But seeing her try to be serious only made me laugh even harder.

"I'm sorry," the timid voice sounded again, "is this a bad time?" I snorted, and broke out into another fit of laughter. "Wha- OOWW!" I yelled, as a bolt of green shot at me from behind.

"Highness, please?" I turned and realized that it was Mercury standing in front of us, clearly awkward and a little embarrassed. Hera and I sobered instantly at the tone in his voice. "Mercury, what is it?" He looked strangely grave, as he looked back and forth from Hera to me. "Sire, it's Hades and Persephone…"

And he told us what he had witnessed that morning, the whole sordid affair, from the forced wedding and binding to the Underworld and its king, the seed, Persephone's tears. All of it. And I knew that it was time, this had gone far enough. I took a deep breath, but was shaken again, when none other than Demeter burst through the archway.

She looked worse than I had ever seen a God or Goddess look, and for an instant, I felt a pang of regret. All I can say is that she looked gray. Her usually shining hair was dull and limp; her eyes looked matte and tired. Grief forsook her two instruments for the simple expression of happiness; the skin around her eyes and mouth was loose and weathered. She said nothing as she stepped off her cloud and approached the throne. But regardless of all this, she still wore a fierce scowl and a look that said I had better give her what she came for.

I almost couldn't do it. I almost couldn't tell this woman that her daughter was lost to her forever to a man who was largely despised. Whether it was out of concern for myself because of the destruction I somehow sensed she would bring on the Pantheon, or for sympathy for her plight, I will never know. Maybe it was both. I almost couldn't do it. So I didn't.

"Demeter, we have received news that your daughter has been forced into a marriage to Hades, Lord of the Underworld." I paused to check her reaction. She only glared at me. I continued, unsure, "…But because it was not only a marriage of her choosing, but one made by force, allowances will be made for her return to earth."

At that last moment, Demeter let a noise loose that sounded vaguely animalistic, but unmistakably joyful. She collapsed to her knees and cried into her hands. I sighed, because I knew there was more. "Demeter," she didn't respond. "Demeter?" She looked up. "Demeter, there is a condition." Instantly, she looked up, "What is it?" she asked dangerously. "She is still married, so she will not be able to live on earth all of the time. She will spend half the year with you on earth, and the other half below with her husband." I finished with authority, this was the most I could do after all, and she was lucky for that, I thought smugly. The power that seed carried, to bind Hades and Persephone together was beyond the power that the Gods held, that _I _held.

But this was apparently not enough for Demeter. She was fuming, she became outlined in shimmering gold light, and I could feel her drawing power from the earth. Her eyes turned coal black as she yelled, "I will have my daughter back!" And still her strength built. I would actually have to fight her back, I thought with mild shock. But something interrupted.

"Enough!" Hera shouted commandingly. I threw her a brief, grateful look, which she dismissed. Women, honestly. "Demeter, you know the laws, and this is all that can be done. We will send someone to fetch your daughter, where she will remain with you for half the year. Now stop this nonsense!" Hera ended her speech, made a sweeping motion with her arm, gathering all the scrolls, and left.

I looked back to Demeter who promptly cursed my name and swept away. Once again I was alone. Mercury, being a God of good sense, left when he had the chance, unnoticed and unharmed. I sighed and slumped back down into my throne, rolled my eyes and selected another town to watch.

Hey there, leave something


	17. Chapter 17

Sorry for the long wait. Chapters like these are very hard to write. So you know what I'm going to say next, if you don't like it review, if you do like it, review. The poem is the last lines of "Let Love Go, If Go She Will" by Robert Louis Stevenson.

Oh, thanks to Goddess, who pointed out that in the last chapter, I called Hermes, Mecrury. I don't know what happened there, apparently I had a brain fart and couldnt remember Mercury's Greek name. Wow. Thanks though.

For one thing thou hast given, O Love, one thing  
Is ours that nothing can remove;  
And as the King discrowned is still a King,  
The unhappy lover still preserves his love.

Chapter 17

"How could you do this?" I screamed at him. My voice broke and my throat was starting to turn raw and hoarse after yelling for what felt like hours. "Why? Why would you do that when I came to you willingly? I wanted you; I loved you…I…I don't understand…you said you loved…" I trailed off. My knees were aching, and my eyes felt like they would burst out of my head from crying. Defeated, I let my weight shift down onto my hip and my arms drop loose at my sides after being clenched at my chest for so long. I rubbed my swollen eyelids and looked up at my husband.

He was my true husband now, and I never resented the word more in my life. Maybe it's because I have always been handled so carefully, but my gut told me that forcing someone into a marriage shouldn't happen regardless of who you are. He stood a short distance away from me, looking off somewhere else. His eyes had a faraway look, and I imagined at first that I read guilt in those steely eyes. But I didn't, it was nothing more than the look of someone who is politely trying to feign interest in a rather boring conversation. I was sufficiently numb by this point, and had a moment of objective clarity. It revealed a feeling of disbelief; he wasn't going to do anything, in fact I thought that if I just got up and strode out of the Underworld he would make no move to stop me simply because I was already bound to him for life. Slowly, I shifted back to my knees, ignoring the stinging sensation that shot up my legs. I heaved a great breath, which was difficult with my wedding dress still restricting movement in my ribs, and stood up.

I was about to test my theory. I was confident enough in my knowledge of the layout of the Underworld to at least give Hades a scare when I headed in exactly the right direction to leave. When most beings, to leave the term indiscriminate, make an escape attempt, they run back where they came from thinking that they will eventually re-cross the River. As if Charon would let them. A better choice, I knew, would be to go to the back face of the palace, down the stairs and into the garden. I could see the page of the book clearly in my mind; there would be a long grove of poplars leading to a rocky hill some distance off, which one could climb to reach the upper world. It was sort of a back door, but I knew of some mortals who had used it before from my recent studies.

I walked determinedly for a few moments, and I wondered if I was only imagining the hole that was being burned in the back of my skull. But still he said nothing. I couldn't believe it, I gave it another second and then I whipped my dress and myself back around. "I should have known better," I shouted incredulously. Hades' eyes snapped to mine, and his eyebrow arched. "How could I ever have expected someone like you to ever be honest with me? What happened to you over the years? That's what everyone asks," I continued, "I thought I knew the answer to that, but I was wrong. I see now that your heart has actually become useless. No one but a coward would have a woman completely in love with him and then _still_ need to force her into a marriage." I was starting to build steam now, "I was _on _the altar, I had _spoken_ my vows, I—," I was cut off abruptly by Hades' sharp interjection.

"I did what I had to, and would never expect someone like _you_ to understand that." He wouldn't even face me all the way; his eyes were blazing with anger yet he still said only a few words. At least that was better than the indifference I saw there before. "Someone like _me_?" I snorted, "Yes, someone like me, of course, how could I forget that you condescended from your all-importance to love someone like me." My eyes were starting to water with emotion, as he took a step toward me. He began to respond in a dangerously low voice, "Don't presume to know my motivation for taking you as a wife. I have never lied to you about my feelings and would not disrespect you by pointing out our difference in station. I do lo—," I was the one who interrupted this time, "Don't even say it," I snarled, "Don't even say that word to me, after you have shown me the greatest disrespect I have ever suffered. Worse than my mother, you believe that I am not capable of hearing a simple explanation and make a choice accordingly, you don't believe that I love you enough to still want to be with you even though I am wanted on the earth. So don't you dare say that word to me, not now, and not ever again." My heart was pounding furiously in my chest, and I vaguely registered the pain it caused.

Hades gave me a look so twisted and tortured I could barely decipher it. "Do you think I am stupid? Do you think I did not know that you had misgivings about staying with me? Give me more credit than that _darling_; I know where your duty lies. Tell me, if given the choice, what would you have done?" he asked. I had slowly been gathering my response with a whirlwind of righteous injustice, when it suddenly died down. "I…I," I struggled. I didn't have an answer for him and it made me furious to see a self-satisfied look form on his face. He continued calmly, regaining his ground in a more comfortable area of conversation for him, no more talk of feelings, only black and white talk of duty, "Exactly, that is why I did what I did. I wanted you for myself, to be my wife," he took another step toward me, gradually closing the distance between us, "because I love you."

"Stop it." I said stonily.

"Stop what?" he asked, getting closer still.

"Stop saying that you love me. It isn't true." I silently cursed myself as tears welled up in my eyes. I wondered at how I had any left, yet there they were, blurring my vision as they welled over the brims of my eyelids.

He still had that smug look on his face as he asserted, "but I do." I looked up at him, he was so close now, and I didn't know how much more of this I could take, "You really don't understand do you? Just taking what you want isn't love, and to you I'm just something to have. I know that you don't often take interest in love or affection, and that makes sense. But just because I was different for some reason or another, and you did notice me, doesn't mean that it's love. You didn't respect me enough to even let me marry you of my own free will, and you certainly don't believe me competent enough to make choices for myself. I wish…I wish that I could say—,"

"But you love me," Hades interrupted, his hand cupping the side of my face.

"Stop doing that." I almost pleaded. Part of me wanted to just close my eyes and take in the feel of his strong hand on my face. To accept the fact that I was bound here for eternity, even though I hadn't made it that way. A voice in my head reasoned that I was going to do it anyway, what was the problem. So what if he forced the seed down your throat, you would have swallowed it willingly. But the other part of me recognized that voice as the one who allowed me to accept excuse my mother offered for isolating me from the world. It was the easy way out. I snapped out of it. "Just leave me alone!" I choked.

He held my face with both his hands now. He looked down at me, frowning, "I love you, and I know you love me too. Say it!" he shouted. "No." I sobbed because I really did love him, but I didn't know what to do. "Say that you love me Persephone." He shouted again. I couldn't say anything, I tried to wrench my face out of his grip but he held me fast to him. He leaned down and tried to kiss me, I jerked so violently away that I freed myself. "What are you doing?" I yelled as I backed away. He dropped his hands to his sides, stung.

"Do not worry," he said, eerily calm, "you will never have to hear those words from me again." And as much as I hadn't wanted to hear them before, I was still hurt when I realized he wouldn't say them again. "Fine!" I shouted, as I ran off my room. The tears I had trying to contain spilled down my face. I cried harder when I realized that I heard no footsteps chasing after me down the hall, my shoe caught in one of many folds in my dress and I tripped and fell. And I just sat there, bruised and broken and sobbing, feeling all at once like a little child who has only just realized the mess she has gotten in.

I know it's a little sad, but review please


	18. Chapter 18

This poem is the first few lines of Robert Frost's "Good-bye and Keep Cold"

I'm so quick with the update this time, could be that at the moment I have no life. Oh well, it's good for you guys I suppose. Thanks so so much to everyone who has reviewed, I know my story isn't epic and huge, but I'm doing the best I can so far. Here is where I offer a disclaimer to my editing, if you see something, shout it out!

This saying good-bye on the edge of the dark  
And cold to an orchard so young in the bark  
Reminds me of all that can happen to harm  
An orchard away at the end of the farm

Chapter 18

Hades.

I made my way back to my throne, noticing for the first time how oddly quiet it was when there was no crying to make soft echoes against the walls. I reflected on the events on the morning; things certainly had not gone the way I had foreseen them in my mind. Regardless, I was now married to the young goddess who had once arrested my every thought and feeling. And now, now I felt nothing. I captured my bride; I had even earned her at one point, and now it seemed that I could slip back into whatever routine I had established before her unexpected intrusion into my life. It was true of course, that I was the one who did all the noticing, but her very being called to me then, and I took that to be something passive, that I simply could not ignore.

She was safe; there was no danger of her ever leaving. Knowing this, I began the rest of my day in a sort of sickly contented haze. I could feel that my eyes were glazed over and vacant as I waded through stacks of unattended obligations to my kingdom. I watched myself as if through a thick pane of glass; go through the motions of my day, slowly, monotonously. The same as every other day for years and years, but what more could anyone ask of me? What was left for me to do? I slipped effortlessly back into the twisted complexities of my world.

The rules were indeed complicated, but everything operated on several simple dichotomies: one was either virtuous, or not, one was either dead or alive, and one either belonged or did not. All other distinguishing features were simply small puzzles to be worked out. I imagined wryly, that my duties must look terribly difficult to someone who was not an expert in death, such as myself. In this grim satisfaction I found the source of my remotest joy in life before Persephone. I had taken what meager enjoyment I could find, solely from my rule and my Kingdom. And as long as I had this, I would not need friendship, or love, or even family. As it was, my life alienated me from my family, death is an unwelcome guest at any party and nothing will spoil a jovial atmosphere faster than the one who was responsible for sending some great-great-grandfather to the depths of Tartarus, even if he was a murderer and a thief. So I thrived on the satisfaction I got from being the fiercest and most feared God in (or out of) the heavens. And I can honestly confess that I have never been sorry for my lot in eternity. I was obviously suited for my position, my memory stretched as I recalled my marked stoicism during my youth. Like so many of the Spartans that had come tumbling into my realm fresh from battle, I had always trained myself to need nothing, especially not the frivolities some of my siblings seemed to need like the air they breathed. The Fate assigned to me was only appropriate, and indeed I do derive pleasure from doing my job well, the best in fact.

My eyes squinted marginally in recognition, as if I had spotted an old friend. I went on for hours in this fashion, reacquainting myself with the familiar twists and turns of my Kingdom with the tedious single-mindedness of one of my shades. I noticed gratefully, that thoughts of Persephone were falling out of my head.

In the upper world, the sun was beginning to set into a bruise purple and blue puddle of light. Even the shadows in my Kingdom began to lengthen and create the feeling of twilight. The halls of my palace were deserted and empty, not even the servant shade waiting to show in the next pleading soul was there. I had been working for what felt like weeks; so repetitive were the incidents I dealt with, and the throne hall had begun to take on an after-hours feel that made _me _feel like I was not welcome. It seemed to scowl and say that the time for studiousness had expired and I was trespassing on time meant for something else. But I could think of nothing else to do, so I let my mind do what I had been guarding it from all day. My mind began to wander and I was a fool to think that I could avoid it. It had been so easy for me to ignore how violently I had needed her. I was falling back on centuries of controlled emotion and defensiveness, a systematic removal of everything (or lack of certain things) that could cause me discomfort in the duty I had no choice but to fulfill.

Persephone. I let her name flow and fill my head, and even the sound of it filled me immediately with warmth. My head dropped into my hands and I slumped over in my throne. I was suddenly exhausted; after all, I had been running all day. Running from thoughts of her, from memories of this morning and the fight. My defenses would not work this time, I noticed with a panicky feeling of dismay. I had tried, but I just could not dissolve into my work. My heart had created a permanent home for Persephone deep down in its innermost parts. I tried to look objectively back at our argument, at our marriage, but I was flooded too suddenly with a tangle of emotions. All at once I was angry, embarrassed, frustrated and despondent; how could things have turned out so badly? I sighed and shook my head slowly in my hands taking all of it in.

I thought of how beautiful she looked in her wedding dress, it must have meant so much to her, and I forgot to tell her. Could I really be that big of an imbecile? I frowned so hard it hurt, but still the image of Persephone falling to the floor in her beautiful white gown haunted me. If I had tears, I might have shed them then, for ruining one of the only blessings I have ever received. Persephone did nothing to deserve the marriage she got. Passion rose in my chest; she should have had the grandest wedding with hundreds of family members and friends all looking at her, thinking that she is the loveliest, kindest creature they have ever beheld. I imagined she would hold it in the middle of the day, when the sun shone the warmest on the earth, under the gold-flecked shade of some huge oak tree. From the branches, all sorts of flowers would be hanging in strings and knots. My imagination fell short when trying to imagine more than two or three different types, but it stopped altogether when I got to the face of the groom. My mood was cast instantly into a dark shade of melancholy as I considered how it would be if she married someone else, like fair-haired Apollo.

I sighed, resigned, as I supposed that someone like him would be much better for my dear Persephone than myself. But I had once been so confident that she belonged here with me, that she held the essence of twilight somewhere inside her. I urged that conviction and depth of feeling back into my head and heart. Slowly, I started to wonder, _well why can't she be with me?_ Of course I ran into the problem that I had just done a thorough job of repulsing her with my coarse display of violence not thirty seconds before our marriage. I vaguely registered a grunt escaping my lips as I pounded the arm of my chair with my fist.

How could this whole ordeal have turned out so badly, when all I wanted to do was make sure that Persephone and I could be together? That I would never miss her smiles and her looks, the way she carries herself with such lightness and grace, her sharp tongue, and her breathtaking kisses; no, I would not be without her.

I jumped up out of my throne, making myself light headed. As my blood rushed back to the proper places in my body, I could sense that something was different. It was Persephone. I no longer wanted to own her, to keep her as my own possession. I loved her. And for the first time in my entire existence I wanted to beat down the doors to the Pantheon and announce my love to every God or Goddess with ears to hear it. Such joy erupted in the pit of my stomach that I actually had to wrap my arms around it for fear that it would burst. Had anyone seen me then, they clearly would have thought me insane. And maybe I was, because I had no idea what to do to make this better. She was such a strong-willed goddess that I doubted she would forgive me now, if ever. But I was so heartened by the revelation that if I had my Persephone to love, I would not have to wallow day in and day out in the turmoil of my work alone. I could have someone to share with and to talk to.

A flurry of images burst forth in my head, of Persephone and I finding ways to pass the time. There were pictures of libraries and fireplaces, visions of Elysium and sunlight and flowers, towering head boards of beds and whispers of sheets at night, sweeping dark marble floors for dancing or chasing and playing…I needed to show her that I could be all of this for her, but I just never knew…she would never have to suffer silently by my side. The whirlwind of stunning images built and built to greater and higher points of excitement until it was all I could do not to sprint to find her again.

I walked determinedly to the end of the hall, and reached out for the iron handle of the vast mahogany doors when suddenly, they flew open on their own. I almost collided with a shade on the other side in my haste and confusion. It was a messenger shade, who looked out of breath, a difficult feat to accomplish, as the shades had no need of breath. Breathing sometimes came back to them like a habit in strenuous situations where rapid breathing was needed as a human. I looked down at the distressed messenger, "What is it?" I demanded. The shade began to stutter and tremble, "M-my L-l-lord, it's the L-lady Persephone." I froze, but the shade did not continue. "What is it? What about Persephone?" I roared. The shade trembled even more as he squeaked out, "My Lord, she's gone."

Persephone.

I finally stumbled into my bedroom, still fighting through the immense mass of my dress. My clumsy fingers and tear filled eyes did little to help me take off my thick white gloves. I fumbled with the buttons on one arm, breaking down with each attempt. My sobs choked the air from my throat, and I threw my hands up in the air in defeat. I was a prisoner in my wedding gown. I hunched all the way forward at the edge of my bed, hugging my arms around myself. I rocked gently back and forth, trying to get my sniffing and heaving under control, imagining that my mother was there beside me, stroking my back and my hair. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the way she smelled when she would hug me close. She smelled like clean fresh water, worn linen and daffodils, and I could almost feel the soft linen touch my cheek, the sunlight warm the top of my head, and the breeze play with my hair. I was almost home, I thought. Soft hands tentatively touched my back, and I jumped, thinking that I had finally started hallucinating in my sorrow. But when I rubbed my eyes and looked up, I saw that it was not Demeter, it was Nyx.

I hadn't heard her enter, but I suspected that I wouldn't have heard it if I were trying. She looked back down at me, silent apology in her sparkling eyes. I turned my hands over pathetically, to display the smudges of pomegranate from my mouth and kohl from my wet eyes. "It's alright," she said soothingly "Here, give me your arm and we'll take these off."

Exhausted, I extended my arm. What I liked about Nyx was that I knew I never needed to explain myself to her, she seemed to either already know, or convince you with one look that it wasn't important and that you owed no one anything. And she took such care undoing the buttons on my gloves, that I almost started to cry again. When I trusted myself to speak, I asked, "Have you seen him?"

Knowing perfectly well who I meant she answered, "No my lady, I have not. But there is someone here to see you. I thought you might not be ready for any news at first, but, you seem alright now." She had finished with my gloves and now stood squarely in front of me, peering questioningly into my eyes. "Are you alright, for now?" she asked.

I swallowed, trying to get a measure of my feelings. I wanted nothing more at this moment than to go to a place where I was loved, and wouldn't have to wonder about intentions, or promises both spoken and unspoken. I nodded vigorously. "Who has come to see me?" I asked anxiously, for I could think of no one who would have occasion to pay a visit because of my marriage, unless it was someone who had come to retrieve me. My heart buoyed at the thought, even as Nyx opened her mouth to answer. "My Lady, I think you had better get dressed first. Hermes is here, and I think you know why. Consider your answer carefully while you dress, he is waiting patiently outside." I knew that Hermes had never waited patiently for a thing in his life, but something still puzzled me, "My answer?"

"Yes," she responded cryptically, "I imagine you will have to make a choice. Maybe not today, but soon, very soon." She moved toward the large armoire that I had actually grown fond of, and opened the doors. I felt a little strange donning the garments Hades had provided for me, but Nyx was, as usual, one step ahead. She pulled out a neatly folded white robe that I recognized as the very same one I had worn the day I came here, though vastly improved by cleaning and mending. When the garment was finally tied and pinned, it seemed ill fitting. I tried to adjust it this way and that, but nothing worked. It sat awkwardly in some places, as if I had grown when I knew I had not, it was impossible. I shrugged and turned to Nyx, "Could I answer the door now?" I asked. She nodded and raised her eyebrows as if to say, "It's up to you."

I walked nervously to the doors and opened them slowly. A young God with golden tan skin and a lithe form walked into the room, his head ducked in a respectful bow. His hair was a mess of light brown curls, and it seemed constantly in motion. "Hermes!" I shouted, delighted for the first time in what felt like ages. He looked up quickly and I saw relief spelled plainly on his features. His sharp blue eyes lit with amazement, "Persephone, I'm so glad you're alright." His tone held something in it I had never heard before, not even during our childhood days. It had a certain heaviness that was uncharacteristic of him. Regardless, I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him, a hug he returned with warm laughter. We pulled away, and neither of us knew what to say or where to start, we simply stood there staring, disbelieving for one reason or another.

He cleared his throat, "My Lady Persephone, Queen of the Underworld—." I was stricken by the tone he was using, "Hermes, we are friends aren't we, there's no need for formalities between us." My heart tripped for a moment. Those words heaved memories forward; they were the very same words Hades had said to me that day in the library. What a feeling they had given me then: a thrill in my stomach of being so _casual_ with the stunning God of the Dead and the care that poured from his voice, if not from his face, when he said it. I was lost for an indefinable moment. I was brought back by Hermes' voice, "Persephone? Persephone what is it?" he asked, a too concerned look controlling his carefree features.

I tried to shake myself from the memory. The impact of that tiny memory had triggered such a terrifying flood of emotion, that I wasn't sure I could make it through too many more of them while still knowing that Hades and I were nothing. I wanted so badly to run back to him, to tell him that I knew him, and understood his decision as if it were my own. I wanted to tell him that he had become a part of me and that I still meant every single word I said on the altar. It burned so badly that a fresh sheen of tears washed over my eyes. I didn't have an answer, he was right. I had no way of reconciling my two worlds, each of which I had become deeply invested in. He was right, and I was being childish. Everything else could have been worked out, I knew it, but this was something I could not ignore.

I had to leave right now, without seeing Hades, or I knew I would never be able to go. I closed my eyes to clear the tears and conjured up one last image of his beautiful face in my mind. I breathed in deep, and turned to Hermes. "I'm fine, sorry, I just…It's been a long day and I'd like to go home." Hermes nodded, but cautiously opened his mouth to speak, "Persephone I should tell you that there is a qualific—," "No Hermes," I cut him off, "I don't care what else there is, I need to go home." I could see him flashing back to this morning, and I could easily read the sympathy he had for me. "Very well. Let's go then."

I turned to give Nyx a parting hug, but she had disappeared. I frowned, wondering if I would ever see her again; if I would ever see any of this again. A lump closed my throat painfully. Now was the time, if ever there was one, to leave this place. As I walked alongside Hermes, my heart silently grieved the loss of my husband, because that was what he was to me: my husband and I felt that I would never be free.

Review please. Questions are welcome, I will answer them


	19. Chapter 19

So sorry for the wait this time. Thank you so much for being patient. This poem is the first stanza of Emily Dickinson's "My Life Closed Twice Before Its Close"

Not edited as carefully as it could be. Feel free to point out any mistakes.

ps. to the reviewer who asked, I actually got into greek mythology through a combination of school (egads!) Disney's Hercules (not accurate I know, but I was young!) and just through my mosey-ing at my library, they had some books with the most beautiful illustrations...definitely check some out.

3

My life closed twice before its close;  
It yet remains to see  
If Immortality unveil  
A third event to me,

Chapter 19

Demeter.

The instant my foot touched the worn gray tiles of my temple floor, a beautiful wash of transparent color flooded the building, splashing and spilling over the tired edges and into the shadowed cracks that haunted my home. I smiled to myself as what looked like years worth of dust and grime were overtaken by waves of shimmering lilac and pale pink like the inside of a rose hip. The sculpted pillars were rinsed smooth and creamy with a watery white gold, which flowed down and swirled pleasantly with a forceful mint green that coated the altars with its lacquered, glassy finish. Pale blues and silvers poured down the walls, reviving the color on the mosaic tiles. With almost hysterical exuberance I whipped my arms around at the huge drab coverings I had laid over all the windows and the furniture. The coarse burlap flew off, exposing enormous arched windows, releasing sunlight that pushed its way in like molten gold and pierced through the last din in the air. My eyes actually watered as they adjusted to the intensity of the sunlight. I hadn't seen light like this in quite some time.

I had raced back to my temple with a speed my body had not felt for ages. I practically swan dove off the edge of Olympus and spun in glorious elation as I plunged toward what should have been miles and miles of idyllic countryside. A small frown creased my forehead as I realized that I had a lot of damage and neglect to undo before my beloved daughter came back to me. Though now all the famine and sterility of land seemed a minor setback, a silly little problem to remedy; after all, I couldn't let Persephone come back to more gray and barren wastelands when she was only just escaping from the hellish kingdom of the Underworld. No, everything would be absolutely perfect for her return.

I stepped out on to the veranda that over looked an expansive meadow in the back of my temple. In my peripherals I could see the bright and sparkling sheen of my renewed temple, which only made the contrast to the meadow that much harsher. The meadow was made of ash and ruin, all gray and brown and black, sick with plague and starvation. Once amber sheets of tall grasses billowed over the surface, and now the plants were beyond wilted. They were whipped and torn past recognition. I felt a foolish smile play at my lips as I surveyed the tragic wreckage of my grief, because I could feel the cry of the earth to bring it to my breast and nurse it back to health. I knew that I was the only one who could.

I raised my arms as pride swelled in my chest. My hands extended gracefully in front of me as coppery wisps of energy began to flow out of them. I closed my eyes and let the healing power of my light course through my veins and out of my body. But before I could release it out to the fields and meadows, I felt something brush my cheeks as it passed from behind me. It was cool and smelled like the night air just before the late harvest, crisp and clean but dark somehow. And it was powerful. This force had an agenda, it was a power to rival even my own. My eyes flew open, and a different sort of energy was beginning to gather at my fingertips. Who could this be; who had power to rival a goddess that I wouldn't be instantly aware of? I was on the defensive but what I saw totally disarmed me…

The scene was breath taking; the entire meadow was covered in tiny pearl white butterflies that made it look as if it had just snowed on my desolate gray fields. I gasped, stunned, and as if they heard me there was a tremendous shuddering of delicate wings as millions of butterflies took flight. They were like the worn linen sheet that a mother flies over the bed she is making while the child lays on it, as it settles down onto the bed, she notices that the sunlight shines through it ever so lightly but then she is distracted by the soft rush of the clean smelling air it has brought down with it. It was like I was young again, and in fact, I could feel the breeze from those wings as they ascended and then scattered. A small tear welled up in the corner of my eye as the memory faded. I had almost forgotten to wonder about where this power came from. I turned around cautiously, not knowing what to expect, thinking it wise to not appear aggressive.

And for the second time my jaw dropped and my eyes flew open. Standing behind me, with glowing silver orbs at her hands was a woman that looked remarkably like my Persephone. But it couldn't be…my Persephone was just a girl, and this was a woman, no—a goddess. Her skin was glowing with internal warmth, the source of which I could only guess at. She was darker than I remembered, not in color of course, but something about her seemed to echo the night sky and her eyes had gained a piercing quality that suggested sharp intellect. If this was in fact my daughter, she was a fearsome thing to behold. My throat closed up tight as the pause grew longer and more intense. When her eyes met mine her eyes softened perceptibly in recognition and love. And the breath I had been holding flew from my lungs, "My daughter, Persephone, darling is that really you?" I started to sob as we ran to each other. She flung herself into my embrace just the way I remembered and I only sobbed harder. "Mother, mother it's alright. I'm here, I'm really here." She said into my shoulder. She felt different somehow, "I wouldn't believe you if I weren't holding you in my arms", I choked, "I would have told you right there where you stood that you were just a cruel hallucination come to torment me. I have missed you so, Persephone."

She pulled away from the embrace to take my face in her hands. Her brow furrowed downward as she searched my face. I was shocked to note that she looked less like a puzzled child and more like she was scrutinizing and reading my every expression. I frowned in return, "What is it child?" I asked. She considered a moment longer and then said, "Mother…what have you done?" her voice shook with feeling and concern. More tears ran down my face. "You seem so much older to me now mother, and the earth, oh, I saw such terrible things please tell me they weren't true!" And now tears sprang into her eyes where joy reigned only moments ago. I bowed my head, removing it from her hands in shame. Who was this girl who could make me feel such guilt? I whispered some sort of excuse about missing her so terribly, but it felt like nothing I said would make what I did any better in her eyes. She didn't know what it was like, she could never understand. I slowly returned my gaze to hers, weary once again. But she just hugged me again, tighter, repeating the same words again and again into my hair—"I missed you so, so much. It doesn't matter; it doesn't matter now. Everything will be ok, won't it?"

I felt in control now, like the parent. She had thrown me for a moment, making me feel like the child. Was it simply concern I saw in those silver eyes, or was there something much deeper than that? I smoothed my hands over the back of her robe for a few more moments, savoring the feel of having my precious daughter back in my arms. I sighed, "Persephone, look at your robe! We must get you inside to change." And we walked back into my sparkling temple, arm in arm, the way it should be.

Persephone.

It was twilight now. A mild breeze made the gauzy lilac curtains flutter against the cool marble frames of my bedroom windows. The moonlight through those large, graceful arches cast a silvery blue light over the cream marble floors and gold mosaic on my walls. My bare feet made soft padding sounds as I moved from the windows to the large divan that I used as a bed. I was surprised to find that now that I was alone I actually felt at rest. I thought that seeing my mother again would set everything right, the way it used to be. Certainly I felt immense joy at finally being home again, but something had changed: those maternal reassurances and cooing voices didn't help as much as they used to. Mother had finally released me to bed after quite a long bath and dressing. And though she kept casting me looks as if she couldn't believe that I was really there I couldn't help but wonder if there was something else going on behind those eyes.

I sighed and noticed as I walked, the way my evening robes flowed around my ankles as I moved; the way the breeze seemed to circle my arms and my back as it passed. I paused to breathe in the scent and coolness of it. Somehow this was enough for right now. After the flurry of activity and attention my return had received, all I wanted was to have a moment to myself to try to figure out how I felt about all of this. I needed to think clearly. Something big had happened to me, something that I felt would have too much importance to just disappear as soon as I left.

I collapsed onto the divan, resting my cheek on the crisp white sheets. That had to mean more than just the time I spent there. The Underworld, Hades, everything I learned, had to be too much to amount to nothing. I rolled onto my back and gazed out the window, suddenly exhausted. What was he thinking right now? Was he angry that I left; did he even care or notice that I was gone? Would he do something about it, and did I even want him to do something? It was alarming how vividly I could still picture his flawless face in my mind. I could see his dangerously beautiful eyes smile down at me as they had done for no one else. I could feel the strength in his arms as they locked around my waist before we both drifted to sleep. The stars twinkled back at me through the window from their places in the heavens. Real stars. And I wondered why I wasn't happier to see them.

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	20. Chapter 20

Here's the next chapter! Yay for me being able to focus long enough to write a chapter! The poem is significant (as always) and this one is called "Pain Has an Element of Blank" by Emily Dickinson.

Thank you so much to those of you who have reviewed and to those of you have just read, thats alright too!

Pain has an element of blank;  
It cannot recollect  
When it began, or if there were  
A day when it was not.

It has no future but itself,  
Its infinite realms contain  
Its past, enlightened to perceive  
New periods of pain.

Chapter 20

Hades.

"She what?!" I roared. The shade in front of me cowered in the doorway and stuttered, "I-I we-w-went to her chambers and she was m-missing." He flinched as I burst out in rage again, "Where is she? She cannot leave, it is _impossible_!" I turned to the messenger, "Prepare my horses, I will be leaving for Olympus immediately."

"B-but my lord…"

"No." I snarled, my voice dangerous and low, "Now." I grabbed the edge of the grand hall door and slammed it closed with every ounce of strength I possessed. I heard the sickening crack of splitting wood, like thick breaking bones as the door crashed against the stone frame. Seconds later I heard the messenger get up from the ground on the other side of the door and scurry off to fetch my things. I heard, but to all else I was blind. The room disappeared to me as my eyes filled with rage. She would not have left on her own, never. Someone had to have taken her from me.

"Where is she Zeus?" I asked, a careful mask barely concealing the reckless edge to my voice. I had reached the Pantheon in mere seconds. "Brother…" he checked, trying not to upset, "Where is who?" he hedged, his eyes flicking left and right.

"You know of whom I speak." I hissed. I strode closer to his throne, prepared to overturn it with my own hands if need be. I wanted answers. I needed to know where she was. Though I had reminded myself of her value to me only moments ago, the sentiments burned holes in my chest. I was a damned imbecile for ever thinking I could live any other way.

Zeus had no way out, so I asked again, "Where is she?"

"Hades, you knew this would happen…she's gone back. Persephone is home."

I knew it all along, but my head would not let me accept it until I heard the words out of someone else's mouth. "How…did she leave on her own? Did someone take her?" Those sentences probably contained more words than I had spoken inside those marble walls in a year. Zeus read the concern I hadn't bothered to mask on my face and his eyes almost softened. "Well, it's a little more complicated than that…" Zeus began to tell the whole tale, from the gradual destruction of the earth which of course, I knew about, to the deal made between Demeter and the king of the gods, which I had not known about. "But I had no say in this!" I accused, "and neither did Persephone, shouldn't her opinion matter in this situation?" Zeus just sighed, hanging his head, "We had to; Demeter would have let everything fall to ruin."

I was dumbfounded. I only partly listened to Zeus ramble on about how it was only a half a year, and how long was a half a year really? Six months? Surely that shouldn't be unbearable. It all passed around me like the cloud of nonsense that it was. My eyes slid out of focus as I slumped down on one of the steps leading up to the throne. I knew perfectly well now that Demeter had her daughter; she would never give her back—law or no law, Persephone would, in all likelihood, remain exactly where she always had been.

But my temper flared again. I stood abruptly, "Tell me brother, how it is that you will allow Demeter to bend the sacred laws, yet there was nothing you could do to stop her from neglecting her duties?" If possible, Zeus looked even more uncomfortable, but he began to form an answer nonetheless, "Hades, you're not going to like what I'm about to tell you: my reasons are none of your business." He was gathering his arrogance, "In fact, you have no right to come storming up here, all darkness—oo I'm so scared—and demand answers." He gave a derisive laugh and sneered, "Hades you kidnapped the girl, what did you _think_ would happen? You'd live happily ever after?"

I was fuming, but still maintained a delicate balance of control, "So, you will let your lingering affection toward a past _rape_ victim deprive Persephone of at least having the choice of where she would like to live?" I had struck a nerve. Zeus' face turned a menacing shade of red as he bellowed, "You know nothing! Get out before I murder you where you stand." Despite the gravity of the situation, I managed a smirk. I wished he would try. But he continued, "And who are you to talk of _victims_, brother? Tell me, how many times were you repulsed before you took her? Did you make her like it, or didn't you care? I was at least man enough to take what I wanted instead of rotting away with all those sentiments," my face was contorting in rage, my fists balled up at my sides, but still he continued in a grotesque mockery of a female voice, "_oh Hades, why? Why did you bring me here? _I bet she cried…oh yes I bet—" he did not get to finish his sentence, because before he got another word out I had reached the throne and punched him straight in the face. A warm spray of blood from Zeus' nose coated the tops of my knuckles as I hauled back to hit him again. Suddenly I was grabbed from behind, and sent tumbling to the floor.

"What is this?" a female voice screeched, "You two are no better than animals!" I quickly rolled over to find that the voice belonged to Hera, who had a strange glint in her eye. I wondered how much of the conversation she had heard. I stood up and brushed myself off, done with this place. And I knew that if I stayed a moment longer the temptation to go back there and rip his jaw off would prove too great. I gave a curt nod to Hera and made my exit. As I left I heard Zeus yell, his voice thick from holding his bloody nose, "Did it ever even occur to you that she _wanted_ to leave? She—" he was cut off again, this time by a prompt slap on the back of the head from Hera. I continued on out.

I walked the grounds, not really sure of where I was going. I just needed to clear my head, so I could figure out what to do. Through sleek marble halls, under cool shaded walkways I found myself in the royal garden. The sweet smell of flowers assaulted my nose immediately upon entering; the colors of every flower in existence blinded my eyes. It was too much, too strong and reminded me too much of her. I turned right around to leave when, "Oh god!" I smacked right into a very sallow looking young woman, who was standing much to close. Close enough for me to feel her less than pleasant breath fan over my face. I squinted and took a step back. "Why look at me so harshly I wonder?" simpered the woman, revealing a set of slightly yellowed, crooked teeth. "Discord," I clipped, "how nice to see you."

It had been a long time since I had seen her lurking around the Pantheon. She had a reputation for stirring up trouble wherever she went, and was no one I wanted to see at the moment. I shouldered my way past her to find somewhere more isolated, like the Underworld. But she called out from behind me, "I know why she left."

I froze. I did not believe for a second that she would tell me the truth, but I wanted so badly to hear something, anything. Her bony hands slid up my back to my shoulders as she leaned to whisper in my ear, "It's a sad story, really. Would you like to hear it?" I turned around and sharply distanced myself from her. Without my answer, she continued on in her lilting voice, "Oh yes, one of the more tragic stories I've heard lately. And I wasn't even the cause!" she let out an unattractive giggle, flicking her matted hair behind her shoulder. I was beginning to get frustrated; a scowl took hold over my face. And just as I was about to leave again, she said, "Dear Persephone only wanted to come home." My eyes widened, and she smirked, "Yes, the whole time. After you kidnapped her she was, of course, upset. She decided then and there that she would do whatever it took to get back home to her mother, and all that sunshine and those flowers!" she had been building up an enthusiasm in her voice, which now sank to a low confessional tone. Her eyes narrowed, "She vowed to do _anything._ Yes, even that. Even pretend to fall in love with the man she hated the most. And what a silly creature she was, she had never managed to hate anything in her life, that pure soul. But she certainly managed to hate you. Especially after what you _did_ to her those nights you spent together…" Discord let out a soft sigh, as if she were telling a mildly sad story about someone's friend of a friend. "No!" I could not stand anymore of this. I practically sprinted back to my chariot, but her voice followed me, buzzing around in my head, "_She wanted to leave you so badly, she took the first opportunity she had…she never wanted you…"_

The trip back to the Underworld felt like it took years. I knew that Discord seldom spoke anything but falsehoods, but a nagging voice in the back of my head suggested that that did not mean some of it could not be true.

I felt sick as I paced back and forth through my chambers. Again the black and white of my bedroom mocked me. I should have known that things were never just one way or the other. My mind strung itself out over thousands of questions and notions of Persephone and why she left so suddenly. They spun and flew around until I was tempted to dash myself in the head with a large rock just to make it stop. I sat down on the end of the bed, trying not to remember every time she had been here. Did she love me? Did she leave because she wanted to, or was she forced? I sat up abruptly. Fine. I will not seek her out. If she can just leave, then let her be gone. I slumped back down again, at least this way I do not have to go see her and face the possibility of her rejection.

Settled with my convictions (the state I was most comfortable in) something still felt wrong. Something felt like it was worming around in my chest, making tiny holes with each passing through. The solution was simple; I would have to forget all about her.

Persephone.

My second day back was no different than the first. I was fretted over, fussed about, and prattled at. My mother's affection and warm presence was certainly something I missed, but I was never more grateful for a full load of work to do. I had the lingering feeling of frost bitten fingers thawing in the sunlight; it tingled and stung a little even though the warmth was welcome. To ease the transition, I threw myself into the task of repairing the local fields, and at night, nursing the sacred gardens back to health.

The day's work was safe enough, it required so much brute force of will that I had little energy left for thought. Gradually raising entire fields of grain and grasses was no easy task considering all the damage it had recently suffered. The soil was coarse and dead. I knelt down and placed my palms on the dirt, closed my eyes and concentrated with everything I had, on infusing the soil with the power to give life again. Then I would have to spend the rest of the afternoon planting and germinating countless tiny seeds, with the help of my gifts of course.

I would come back to the temple exhausted and burnt. Demeter would be waiting in her chambers with cups of cold juices and trays of fruit waiting for me. Lately she'd been confined to the temple to receive the sudden influx of offerings that had begun to pour into the temple. When I stepped over the threshold to the temple I could hear faint whispers of fervent prayers of praise and thanks bouncing off the walls, creating a gentle volley of echoes.

Today, after sitting with mother for a little while, talking of this and that, a feeling of restlessness worked its way into my belly. I could feel my thoughts beginning to take an unpleasant turn toward _him, _and thoughts like these stung and were difficult to hide from my mother. When I announced that I wished to go work on the gardens my mother looked up at me, concerned eyes searching my face, "Dear, haven't you worked enough for today?" I faltered, I just wanted to go outside and focus on something else. My voice was starting to sound strained, "No, mother, it's alright really, and after all it needs a lot of work doesn't it?" I could tell I wasn't as convincing as I would have liked, but I was slipping. Why wouldn't she just let me go, I needed to get outside, fast. The itchy restless feeling was creeping up around my neck, my mother said, "Ok love, but please don't work too hard. I'll come out to get you in an hour or two." She gave me a smile and I just nodded, with my own corresponding smile, hoping it matched the one she gave me.

I ran to my room to change into something lighter, grateful to be out from under my mother's watchful eyes. I threw a gauzy white shawl over my shoulders and threw my shoes off. Stepping out into the cool twilight alone did wonders to improve my mood. I quickly settled on a small section of the outer edge of the garden. The process of rejuvenating the garden would be intricate and complicated, worked in very small sections, though always with the bigger picture in mind. I had hoped it would take my mind off of the wandering thoughts of Hades that passed over my minds eye. I shivered when my mind even dared to pronounce his name. My work helped at first, I noticed nothing but the gentle pull of the evening breeze, and the tangible settling of the cold on the ground where I sat. But soon enough I began to wonder, why hasn't he tried to see me, to talk to me? Surely he can't still be the Hades I saw at the altar, so cold and unyielding. Not when I'd seen him so many times warm and alive.

I sighed. I heard a responding sigh, and I jumped. I thought I was alone, but when I looked up I saw very clearly that I was not. A woman was standing in front of me, blocking the remnants of the pale sunset. And I don't know if it was because of the fading light, but she was an unmistakable, sickly shade of yellow.

oooo. review pretty please


	21. Chapter 21

Thank you so much to the Zorpisuttle for your constant reviews (and Maguerite Blakeney--I do love your Hades and Persephone story) The poem is the first stanza of Emily Dickinson's "One Need Not be a Chamber to be Haunted"

One need not be a chamber to be haunted,  
One need not be a house;  
The brain has corridors surpassing  
Material place.

Chapter 21

Demeter.

I could tell she was hiding something from me. I'm a mother. I notice these things. The dejected stares off into the distance, the quiet sighs, her slumped shoulders—she thinks that I can't see the sadness behind her eyes when she looks at me. My poor little princess, I sighed to myself. She puts up a valiant effort: I say her name and something tangibly shifts in her air. She graces me with a cheerful smile and assures me that nothing is wrong, sometimes she even acts confused at why I would ask such a question. But as soon as I turn away, I can see from the corner of my eye that she has gone right back to the way I found her, exhausted from the effort of feigning happiness for my benefit. What is it that she will not tell me?

I sat on the great marble throne just inside the second tier of columns that made up the front of my temple. An afternoon breeze blew warmly into the shade of the sanctuary, but my thoughts were still distracting me. I ran my fingers back and forth over the smooth marble of the armrest as I wondered what to do. This was something I had no experience with. My daughter seldom looked troubled, and why should she? I made it so that her life was perfect; it lacked nothing that a young girl could ever want or need. And even when she came upon the occasional bump in the road, she always turned to me for guidance. It itched in the back of my mind, this foreboding sense that this something that she wouldn't tell me about, had everything to do with Hades. Why else wouldn't she tell me? She's obviously trying to keep me happy by pretending to be all right, but I would much rather she tell me directly. That way, I can do whatever needs to be done to make sure the person responsible for my daughter's pain is punished appropriately. I was working my temper up to an angry fever when I heard footsteps enter the throne room from the back garden entrance. I composed myself in an instant, taking a quick breath to calm the fire in my head. I looked straight ahead; chin high, in case the footsteps belonged to a servant.

But I softened when Persephone appeared before my throne. She briefly bowed her head in respect, and when she lifted her eyes to mine, her mask was perfectly in place. "Persephone, have you decided to finish your work early today? Why, it's still light outside. I wasn't expecting you for at least another eight hours." I asked, surprised.

She smiled at the mention of the grueling hours she had been keeping lately, "Very funny mother" she joked, "But I think I'm going to go talk a walk to visit some of the nymphs, you know how they get when they don't feel they're receiving enough attention…" I had to give her credit; her expression seemed whole-hearted. I wondered sadly, how long she could keep it up. I eyed her a moment longer, seeing no reason why she shouldn't go—it might actually do her some good, "Of course, love. I'm sure the girls would love to see you. Anyway I can't keep you all to myself every day, now can I!" I watched.

Her smile faltered a fraction. I probably would have missed it had I not been looking: her eyes went flat and though the corners of her mouth remained high, the smile didn't reach her eyes. "Ha…I don't suppose you can…" she trailed off, more to herself than me it seemed. She recovered, and I watched her performance with the rapt attention of an enamored audience. "Oh, well, I'll be back just after sunset." She gave me a parting smile before she turned and left the sanctuary.

I promised myself I would ask her what was upsetting her before the night was over. I ducked in my throne to look out from under the roof at the sky. I noticed stormy gray clouds rolling in from the north.

Persephone.

I rushed to my room to drop off my working shawl. I rushed back across the terrace to the garden. I rushed through the garden to the winding stream behind that garden that seemed to scowl at the pace I was keeping. I rushed anyway. I rushed everywhere, pursued by thoughts I wished I could wash away with the dirt and sweat from my work. Everywhere I went I was chased by tireless specters of doubt and grief. I wondered if I had made the right decision, and even worse I wondered if anyone _else_ thought I had made a bad decision and wished I would reverse it. I hoped that if I ran, and hurried and kept busy, all the ugly feelings roiling in the pit of my stomach would give me some sort of peace. So I ran. I ran from the tears in the corners of my eyes, from my mother's gaze, from the gnawing in my insides.

And now I was running to a place I used to come to be on my own. I had lied when I said I was going to visit the nymphs I used to play with, a part of me knew that my mother saw through my façade, but it didn't stop me from putting it up. As long as I could keep on acting, I would never have to tell her about anything but what she wanted to hear. Because I think that's all she would listen to anyway. So everyday, I strove to let her know that I was happy and content. I smiled, chattered with what I thought was animated excitement when she came outside to work with me on the gardens and only let my guard down right before I sank into another night of fitful, nightmare-filled sleep. Every morning I woke up with gray tear stains on my pillow and a headache from clenching my teeth together so tightly.

I was tired. Tired through my skin to my muscles and down to my bones. I felt hollowed out from anxiety, like any moment I might break down. It was too much to be around my mother, I needed a place to fall apart.

A drop of rain plopped wet on my cheek and rolled down my jaw. I looked up and saw the mass of gray clouds brewing where the sun had just shone. I shivered as the wind kicked up around my ankles and wreaked havoc on my hair. I crossed my arms over my chest and continued on.

A little bit farther and I was at the place I remembered from my childhood. I had abandoned it for a time, thinking that I had outgrown the need for such hide-aways. I shook my head silently.

Along the stream, there was a thick cluster of weeping willows on either bank that blended with the other trees that lined the stream. Their branches swept low concealing the middle of the stream. Slowing for a moment, I carefully parted the branches and stepped inside, looking over my shoulder one last time to be sure that I was alone. And suddenly everything was a cool, quiet green. The stormy light from outside filtered in through the millions of tiny green leaves that lined each weeping bough. The arms of the trees formed a rounded out middle that felt a lot like being inside a tiny speckled bird's egg, it created a complete curtain; protection from the outside—sounds were faraway and muffled, everything sat serenely green as one might suspect it had for years untouched and undisturbed. In the middle of the stream, a stout granite boulder divided the water that flowed around it. I stepped carefully down the steep, muddy bank and moved the inner scrim of willow limbs from where they dipped low into the stream to reveal a smooth and shiny stepping stone only barely above the water level. I jumped from stone to stone, crossing the stream, and climbed on top of the granite boulder in the center.

I tucked my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. Unable to completely let myself go, I squeezed my eyes shut. If I relaxed even for one second they would come back. The awful voices of doubt, guilt, suspicion and pain would come storming back into my head and begin clawing at the inside of my ribs. I sniffed, as I felt the long days and sleepless nights compounding into one inevitable wave of emotion.

As I was sitting there on the rock and on the verge of tears, I didn't notice the soft squash of steps coming down the bank of the stream. I didn't hear the light splash of the water as dripping branches were moved aside. And my eyes were so tightly closed I didn't notice when someone's broad figure blocked the gray light that fell on me. Another step. My breath caught in my throat and my eyes flew open in anticipation, though they only stared down at my knees. I didn't dare to believe it could be him; it couldn't be, could it? A strong draft broke in from the outside, and I felt a hand lightly touch my shoulder. I bit down on my lip to keep the tears from spilling over; still not quite believing this could be real. I pictured his face the way it looked the last time I saw him smile down at me. It wasn't an excited expression, but he was happy. I could read it in his eyes, the way they burned with a strange sort of light when he looked at me, with the corners of his mouth almost imperceptibly turned upwards. I finally got brave enough to look up, and I saw…nothing.

A branch had swung over and draped itself over my shoulder, moved by the wind from the coming storm. Nothing and no one was there. And that was it; silly, futile hopes and disappointment flowed out of my eyes with the tears that had already begun to form. My whole being was weary of struggle and wanted so badly for everything to be out in the open, understood and accepted by all. I sobbed for what I had lost, for what that horrible woman said to me, for the thought that it might be true and for the possibility that I may never know. I sat there on the boulder as the rain began to fall from the turbulent sky. And as I cried, the rain began to seep through the layer of leaves that protected me, and soon I couldn't tell which were my tears and which were the raindrops.

Demeter.

I had been pacing back and forth in my bedchambers. I decided that tonight would be the night that I confront my daughter. When she got back from her visit, I would sit her down and have a talk about what in the world was going on with her. I talked myself up, prepared speech after speech, believing each one to be better than the last before scraping the whole idea and starting anew.

By the time I heard my daughter's footsteps in the main hall, I had fashioned myself quite the sermon on being forthright and honest. She walked in; I opened my mouth. But the second I saw the expression on her face, every sentence I had planned flew out of my head. She looked devastated, and soaking wet as she trudged through the sanctuary to her rooms. As she passed she cast such a look of weariness at my feet. I called to her, "Persephone, what is the matter?" She stopped as a boulder stops when it hits a wall, as if it had no will of its own, "I just need some rest is all, those nymphs…their energy is incomprehensible." She finished with a feeble smile that we both knew convinced nobody. I shook my head, and let her go. I didn't know what else to do. That, and I wasn't sure I wanted to know. I began to wonder about what exactly happened to her in the Underworld. I just assumed that her joy at being home would override any unhappiness she experienced there—to have everything right again would surely solve her problems. Yes, I will give it time. This is an adjustment phase that will pass…it will go away soon enough and then I will have my old Persephone back. The way things used to be.

please review. even if you are just now reading the story. :D


	22. Chapter 22

CaliTigeress: uh. right about now :D glad you enjoy the story!

Wow so your reviews make me very happy. I feel like the more I write the more I work out the kinks. If you disagree, then let me know. This is the fist half of "Revelations" by Robert Frost. The second half will be featured at the beginning of the next chapter, because it makes sense that way. You'll see. Please enjoy.

We make ourselves a place apart  
Behind light words that tease and flout,  
But oh, the agitated heart  
Till someone really find us out.

'Tis pity if the case require  
(Or so we say) that in the end…

Chapter 22

Persephone.

Leaves slowly uncurled from their buds on tree branches, the skies lightened, the wind blew warm and pleasant, gently pulling the petals on newborn flowers. Time passed, as always. For me it passed in a dreary parade of days and weeks, each one no different from the last. As new growth sprang forth from the earth, I only wished to sink into it. Why is it that the earth never opens up and swallows you when you want it to?

The only thing I could do to keep the maddening frustration and sorrow away was to throw myself into the mind-numbing work my mother provided me. So I did: everyday was a blur of grain, corn, grass and townspeople. I learned to manage the weariness that overtook my steps, the exhaustion in my voice. I even learned to hide it a little better, but what I became a master at was shutting out absolutely every thought that had to do with him. When I felt them lurking at the edges of my mind, I squeezed my eyes shut and physically pushed them out. I had known that separation would hurt, but I had no idea it would be like this, like I had lost a part of me.

Five months and twenty-eight days passed like this, not that I was counting. Plant-sow-mope-repeat. Almost six months of the worst pain I had ever had to endure, but what made it worse was the fact that I could see no end in sight. Even if I did see him, it might not solve anything because I had no idea how he felt about me after I left. But mother would never allow be to see him anyway…although I was sure that if he wanted to, he could come see me; he never much cared for the rules of the upper world…so maybe he didn't want to after all… Those were the types of thoughts that threw me down into a self-spiraling torrent of panic and desperation. See, that's why I kept those out.

So I kept to my routine, limited variance in my day meant not having to think about anything new—in the back of my mind I knew my brain was probably rotting but I couldn't bring myself to care. What did I need a brain for anyway, I sighed? It's not as if being the Goddess of rebirth makes you the target of stimulating conversation, it's not as if _he_ were here talking to me. Oops. Have to be careful; don't even think of him as a pronoun because that could lead to other places that involve things much scarier and more painful than pronouns. I let my eyes glaze again and fell back into the work I had been doing almost ceaselessly for five months and twenty-eight days…

Demeter.

An invitation was lying innocently on the floor of the temple, near the entrance. I gathered that Hermes had left it, but did not stay. This worried me, Hermes used to stay to see Persephone after he delivered his messages. I used to suspect that he even invented messages just to come see my daughter, but this was apparently something he didn't do anymore. That meant that something really had changed Persephone and it wasn't just my imagination, as much as I wished it was.

I picked up the invitation and gently undid the gold seal stamped over the opening. It was a royal party on Olympus, proclaimed the first line, in honor of the Goddess of Spring, Lady Persephone, to be held tomorrow evening. My mouth fell open in shock. What was the meaning of this? I grabbed my cloak and set off immediately for Mount Olympus, on the way out I caught myself thinking that Persephone wouldn't even notice that I was gone.

When I arrived, the main hall of the Pantheon was full of bustling activity: servants arranging candles along shelves, hanging garlands of flowers from the arches that formed a partial ceiling, and countless other activities that were obviously in preparation for a party. Several servants bowed to me as I cut across their paths to get to the back of the hall where I knew Zeus would be sitting, not helping, naturally.

As I stormed up to a lazing Zeus I yelled, "What are you up to? Throwing Persephone a party, honestly..." I looked around to make sure know one was listening and hissed, "When you know what time it is!"

And Zeus just sat there smirking a bug stupid smirk that made me want to hit him. "Demeter, I don't see what the problem is, I'm just trying to be nice. She is my daughter you know." He said smugly.

I was beginning to seethe with anger now, "Since when do you care about her? Never. You're up to something and I know it, so you might as well tell me now because if it has anything to do with that appalling brother of yours I'll—I"

"You'll what?" he interrupted me, "You won't bring Persephone to her own party? Then why would I tell you? And as for my brother, he has every right to be here I suppose, especially since it _is_ that time and he has a parcel to collect." He finished with a wolfish grin that I didn't like one bit.

"She's not going with him." I stated firmly, "I won't allow it."

"Well, unless you suddenly become ruler of the Gods, which I'm pretty sure you can't because I think someone's already doing that job…wait, oh…" he began to mock me, "oh yes, _I _already do that job, then you have no choice in the matter. Besides, she is his legal wife. Does she not want to return even a little bit?"

"It doesn't matter, she won't be returning there to be violated by that _place_, by _Hades_." I spat venomously.

"Like I said before, you have no—wait!" his face lit up with a sudden realization, "You haven't told her yet!" his voice raised with malicious glee, "Demeter, I bet you haven't even told her that she has to return to the Underworld for half a year to live with Hades! Oh that's rich, I don't even think I would have done that—all things considered." He chuckled to himself.

I was flustered, I have to admit, but even if he could guess at my plan to simply ignore the coming date, there was nothing he could say that could make me even consider willingly handing my daughter over to that disgusting, miserable low-"I'll make you deal" Zeus said. Except that.

I looked up sharply, sensing an opportunity to work the situation in my favor. "I won't make any deal that involves letting him take my Persephone at this ridiculous party you're throwing." I quipped, scowling. Zeus snorted, shifting his mighty frame in his throne, "Relax woman, don't get you panties in a twist. Hades isn't even coming, he said so himself."

I huffed indignantly, ignoring the first parts of what he said and continued, "How am I supposed to believe that? You don't care anything for honesty." I said, my tone acerbic. Zeus gave an exasperated sigh as if this were something only a five year old would need spelled out for them. He reached into the seeing bowl next to his throne and pulled out an invitation that looked similar to the one I received except this one had apparently been blasted with a fireball. Invitations from Olympus being stronger than the mortal variety, this one was still intact, though it was covered in angry looking scorch marks. He held it between his index finger and thumb, looking at it with great distaste, "this is the response I got from the Underworld, I don't know, do you suppose he'll come? Maybe this means he'll being a guest." He said, looking at me, eyes wide with sarcastic wonder.

"Ok" I caved, "what's the deal?"

"Just bring Persephone to the party tomorrow, and I'll let you give the girl up on your own terms, that way you'll have time to tell her about the arrangement yourself."

"That's some deal!" I yelled, outraged, "We come to your party and I get to _let_ her leave? A deal would be Persephone getting to stay with me the whole year!"

Zeus looked like he was reaching the end of his patience, "Do you remember whom you are talking to? You do what I say, not the other way around. And I think you're getting off lightly considering I could have her hauled off after the party I would be forcing you to attend. Anyway, it looks like you have some things to discuss with her considering you've kept her in the dark this whole time." I could tell he was satisfied with himself for being so clever. Inside I was fuming, who was he to give me parental advice? I said, or didn't say, what I judged to be right to Persephone, especially since I never had any intentions of letting her go. Now, this stupid party was ruining everything and he knew that. "That's right," he said, a smug look on his face, "you have to come to my party, we can't have you hiding our little Persephone away from the world all year long now can we? We'll leave that to Hades when he brings her down to the Underworld." He added, almost as an afterthought. I was so mad I couldn't think of words to form a response that adequately expressed my feelings. So I cursed, and spat at his feet.

Later on that night, when I had returned to my temple and regained control of my temper, I decided that maybe the party would be a good way to snap Persephone out of the haze she's been in. The party is in her honor after all. And if she doesn't cheer up by then, I will find out why she hasn't been herself these past five months and twenty-days.

Persephone.

Out on the veranda, where at dawn a soft yellow light fills the air, I perched my self on the marble rail with my feet hanging over the side. I was waiting for someone, but if he didn't come soon, my mother would wake up and find me out here. I swung my legs back and forth in anticipation; I let the backs of my feet smack loudly against the columns. Off in the distance, where the forest turns into clearing, I saw a dark figure approach. My heartbeat quickened, my legs swung faster, I wanted to leap off the veranda wall and run to him but I was stuck fast where I was. Stuck inside the temple walls, rooted fast to where I sat so all I could do was lean forward, farther and farther hoping to help close the space between us. It felt like he took years to finally reached the ledge I was sitting on, I kept casting anxious glances behind me, expecting my mother to come outside at any moment. "Hades, please…" I called in a loud whisper, "please, hurry!"

All the hurt of months and months felt justified as he came near; he looked so heartbreakingly beautiful in the pale morning light that the pain of our separation even as he approached became acutely sharp in my chest. He stood now, in front of me looking more dark and dangerous than ever in contrast to the lightness that surrounded him. I reached my arms out to him and he obligingly stepped forward. He came up to the height of my chest from where I sat on the veranda wall; I placed my hands gently against his cheeks, drinking in the sight of his seraphic face—my memory didn't do him the justice he deserved. Hades' eyes lost their hardness as he closed them and leaned into my hand. My name was a tender whisper on his lips as I bent down and softly kissed his forehead. He never failed to send shivers down my spine. "I missed you so much," my voice shook as I spoke into his dark hair. In response, Hades just brought his arms up and circled my lower back as he rested his cheek gently against my chest. He sighed, "I can hear your heart." I hoped he wouldn't notice how it fluttered and skipped whenever he spoke.

"What is it telling you?" I asked quietly. As he lifted his head, his arms tightened around my back, pulling me closer to him one leg on each side. I could feel all the thoughts over our lost time resonate from within us as I stared into his eyes. The intensity of the moment and the sheer perfection of his face pricked tears in behind my eyes. As I leaned down to him, Hades pulled me toward the edge of the wall, and our lips met as I fell into him. The kiss deepened as he caught me carefully, but didn't put me down. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, wishing that my feet would never touch the ground. He whispered my name against my lips reverently, devotedly as our breath mixed together in prelude to the next sweet kiss. I returned his kiss with every ache I had felt for him in the past months, every tortured hunger, and every painful thought… "Persephone…"

"Persephone."

"Persephone!"

"Persephone wake up!" My mother's harsh voice rang in my ears as I struggled to remember where I was.

I groaned unattractively and rolled over, only to find that I had been sleeping slumped over on one of the garden benches. I shrieked as I hit the ground with a solid thump. "Ow…" I rubbed my back as I stood up and squinted tiredly at my mother, trying not to let my disappointment shine through my eyes. That wasn't the first dream that had left me to wake up severely despondent, each one deflated any steam I had been building up to motivate myself to start living again. Like a real person, not the shell I had become.

"What on earth were you doing sleeping outside?" my mother asked, incredulous. "Do you really need me to come out to get you from your work at night, goodness I assumed you would be able to put yourself to bed." She scolded. "Uh…I, guess I was just that tired?" I fished.

My mother cast me a disbelieving side-ways glance complete with pursed lips as she began to brush my dress off and tidy my hair. "No matter," she said casually. Out of habit, I held my arms out to the side so she could straighten my dress like I knew she would. "An invitation came from the Pantheon yesterday…" Demeter started too flippantly. I raised my eyebrows and looked at her. She wouldn't meet my eyes. "Mother you can't be serious." I had made it abundantly clear a long time ago that I wanted no part in any of the parties on Mount Olympus. "Now Persephone, this one is different—it's"

"Oh yea, this one is different mom?" I snapped a little to harsh, "this one will be something other than the pathetic gathering of drunken gods and goddesses all trying to cop a feel?" Surprisingly, she didn't reprimand my speech the way she usually did, she merely gave an exasperated sigh and said, "A little trust here, darling. This party _is_ different (and while I agree with your not-so-polite observations) it's different because it's being held in your honor.

I was nonplussed. "You're kidding." I gaped in horror. "Mother how could you?" I whined. "Persephone please don't be ridiculous." Demeter half scolded, half implored. I followed her back into the temple, harassing her all the way, "I don't want to go to that stupid party, and there's no way you can make me." I plopped down onto a pale green settee as my mother continued on.

"Persephone," she yelled from the next room over, "you're being childish. No one said you had to entertain anyone, Fates know they'll do that themselves. Just go-smile-do what you want."

"What I want is to not go." I sulked. Demeter came back through the room I had not followed her into carrying a handful of dresses, apparently not listening. "Besides, you don't have anything better to do. Don't give me that face, you don't. You would sit out in that garden of yours and work yourself to death."

I flinched at the word death. A thought occurred to me, if it was a celebration, there was a chance that Hades would be there. I knew it was a long shot that Hades would be invited to a celebration in _my_ honor, and one that my mother wanted me to go to at that, but there if was even the tiniest chance he would be there, I had to go. "You're certain that I _have_ to go?"

Distracted with her cargo she mumbled, "Yes, yes of course you have to." She draped the dresses over the back of a pale pink velvet arm chair, and held up a typical-Demeter lilac dress for me to look at, "Now what do you think about this one for you tonight?"

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	23. Chapter 23

I am so, so sorry for the wait on this chapter. I know it's been a while and it might not be all of what you want, but now that I've moved back home from school, I can write more frequently. Apologies once again.

The poem is Revalation, by Robert Frost

…We speak the literal to inspire  
the understanding of a friend.

But so with all, from babes that play  
At hide-and-seek to God afar,  
So all who hide too well away  
Must speak and tell us where they are.

Chapter 23

Persephone.

I shook my head and let a frustrated sigh escape my lips. My mother's eyes snapped over to me and I just shrugged my shoulders, "I'll be back in a few minutes; I need some fresh air." She rolled her eyes, "Well hurry up, we've got a lot of work to do." I could tell that something was really bothering her about this party. Normally, the day of a big event on Olympus would find my mother absolutely falling to pieces over what kind of flower she should put in her hair, or some other silliness like that.

Still, I couldn't help but feel a familiar rise in my stomach as the realization that my party was tonight sank in. My one hope hung on the attendance of one person. If there was any chance at all that he would be there, I had no other choice than to go. I hadn't let myself admit how badly I wanted to see him again until just now—it seemed safe enough since there was a good chance that he would be near me soon, and I thought that even though sometimes I felt my very sanity slipping away, it would be worth the pain it would cause me later if he didn't show, or worse, if he did and wanted nothing to do with me. Tonight would decide the fate of the rest of my life, if he didn't want me, there would be no coming back from it.

It was still very early for me to be awake and outside, but I took a moment to enjoy a small stretch in the pale pink light. One cool breath through my nose and I was done. It was time to go back inside and face my mother, who I was sure, had worked herself into a whirlwind of ridiculously frilly dresses for me to try on.

"Mother no…please…" a few minutes and several itchy layers of fuchsia fabric later, I was wrestling with what looked like an extremely flamboyant hydra with a serious bout of constipation. My mother cocked her head a bit and said, "I think it looks…charming…if you sort of squint a little bit…" the dress was hideous beyond all description and it was only out of love for my mother that I even let it stay in the same room with me. Half my hair was frizzy and sticking out at an offensive angle, and the other was hanging limp over my right eye. I blew a puff of air to move the pathetic locks off my face. "No, that's not the right dress is it?" she said, defeated for the moment. "…You think so?" I snorted.

The rest of the morning progressed much in the same fashion, each dress followed by an even more hideous excuse for a garment. "Where did you even _get_ these?" I laughed. My mother looked up at me from the hem of a particularly atrocious green robe, "You know, I have no idea." She paused for a moment and continued, reflectively, "There just always seems to be a trunk of dresses lying around. I figured it was worth a look." I cringed, "Anything else we could try?"

"There are the usual ones, in the closet, I had wanted it to be something special, but I'll see if I can find something. You take a break for now, and try to do something with that hair!" she all but ran to her chambers to look for a suitable dress. My closet was basically useless: opening it would reveal a row of children's cut clothing that seem a bit over-sized and stained to various shades of white-ish brown from all my days spent in the fields.

I flopped back on one of the overstuffed velvet couches that populated the sitting area. The smile I had worn all morning came unglued and fell off my face. I rubbed my cheeks, slowly trying to get them to come back down where they usually are. I was starting to get very nervous, something felt off about tonight, and my mother's strange behavior was doing nothing to reassure me.

I whipped my head in the direction of a tremendous noise that came from my mother's room, followed by an ear-piercing shriek. I jumped up and ran into the back room, expecting to see my mother in some sort of mortal danger (as if such a thing were possible) instead I threw myself through the doorway to find my mother jumbled up in a heap of burlap sacks on the floor, laughing like a madwoman. "What on earth is wrong with you today?" I asked, exasperated. Whatever it was, it was wearing on my nerves. She just ignored me and started rifling through the contents of the nearest bag. As she mumbled to herself my jaw fell open. The brightest, most beautiful gowns tumbled out of the coarse burlap. I sank to the floor and reached for a bag of my own, "Where…?"

She flashed me a toothy grin, "I was young once too. These are all mine, I thought I would never see them again…Oh how I've missed you…" she took a moment to fondle the beadwork on a particularly bridal-looking gown. Her eyes glazed and I knew I had lost her to some memory from years ago. I could only imagine what my mother had been like at a party when she was young. I smiled to myself as I imagined young Demeter diligently policing the wine intake of her brothers and sisters.

"How about this one, love?" I snapped out of it as Demeter held up a jade green gown with a high empire waist. I nodded appreciatively; it was resplendent, really, with three layers of smooth, watery silk. She was looking at me, obviously waiting for something. "What?"

"Well, what do you think for the party?" I considered carefully, looking back and forth from the dress, to my mother, and to the dress again, "It would look lovely with the color of your eyes, and maybe if you did your hair like—."

"Not for me, for you Persephone!"

"Oh…um" I don't know why I didn't take the dress; it was perfect. I held the delicate hem between my fingers and felt the liquid-like fabric. I usually love things like this, and a little while ago I would have been thrilled that my mother was not only letting me borrow something of hers, but that it wasn't shaped like an ill-fitting sack like most of the dresses she chose "for your own good" as she put it. Yet as I looked at the dress I felt nothing, no tinge of excitement, no feeling that the dress found me instead of the other way around. This dress was meant for someone else, not for me. I replaced the gown in my mother's hands; I could feel her eyes boring holes into my head. "You don't like it?" she asked.

"It's not that…" I started.

"No matter, there are plenty of others." She continued on unfazed. I had thought there would have been more of a fight than that. But then I realized that to her, that dress was still just a dress. To me, that dress was like everything I had ever been—jade green, young and transient as flowing water. I imagined it would smell like spring and would feel like a thousand butterflies when I put it on. That was why it worried me: I didn't want to wear it, or see how it looked or felt.

I sighed as the thought of ten more sacks of dresses just like that one weighed on my shoulders.

To my increasing horror, each dress was more beautiful than the last, brighter and airier until I was convinced that just wearing them would rip them to shreds. They all reminded me of springtime, but I didn't choose any of them to wear. I could tell my mother was getting worried, and I wished there was something I could do to help. I felt like a sick person that was offered poultices after medicines after elixirs and had to send each of them away, no matter how desperately she wished she could say she was well again. Demeter pulled the last one out, an impossibly light, off the shoulder gown in a lovely fawn color. Nothing. I shook my head. "Well I'm out of ideas, Persephone. I don't see why you can't just pick one of these dresses, you said you didn't want to go to the party anyway so why does it matter that you don't have the _perfect_ dress?"

I fidgeted, "I don't know, I just thought I would _know_ which one I wanted."

"That's silly, who doesn't know what they want, my goodness they're just gowns, nothing to get serious about."

I raised my eyebrows. She smiled and raised hers back, "Fair enough. But could you please just pick one, there's only about five more hours until we have to be there." I started to laugh, but something in the farthest bag caught my eye. It was just the tiniest bit of gray fabric, very ordinary actually, possibly plain. My breath caught a little, as the stubborn girlish side of me sensed some sort of sartorial destiny. On my hands and knees, I leaned across my mother and grabbed at the bag. I slowly pulled the gown out, and tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. The dress was a breeze that carried the scent of a long-lost love, something that took you home, if only in the mind. "I've never seen that before in my life" Demeter whispered in awe. I stood quickly to try it on, but I already knew it would fit. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed my mother gingerly rubbing her ankle.

It was a strapless dress with a wrapped bodice above a medium empire waist, underlined with a thick satiny black ribbon that tied in the back over a dip of bare skin exposed by its low lines, and tumbled all the way to the floor. The gown itself was composed with starlight white gold fabric that quickly faded into a deep, just after sunset blue. It was gathered so that it rippled and was alive with movement in every step, and it pooled at my feet as if it might melt into the floor.

I just stared as it twinkled darkly back at me from my reflection. "Mother I want to wear this one…" She smiled cautiously as she stood up, "My sweet, this one wants to wear you. Are you sure it isn't a little…overpowering?" A grin played slowly at my lips, "It's exactly what I was looking for."

My mother wasn't exaggerating when she said that she was worried because there were only five hours left until we were due in Mount Olympus. Deep down I hoped that one of the great poets would list among her talents, "alarmingly paranoid powers of motherly worry and procrastination." Sadly these are the qualities that are overlooked while I am left to bear the full brunt of them.

I knew pre-party beautification rituals (because that's how seriously she took them) would not go well when I saw how my mother emerged from her room and I from mine. We gave each other the once-over and by the time we made eye contact again, we wore identical looks of distaste. Demeter had chosen a long, somewhat conservative dress of the palest green, to compliment her eyes I suppose, and had arranged her hair half up, half down so that it fell neatly around her shoulders. She did look very pretty; it just wasn't anything _I_ would voluntarily wear anymore. Some part of me was still caught off guard when I caught myself choosing darker versions of the things I used to love. I wondered, if I had been brought up with the choice, which version I would have chosen.

Her eyes reflected a similar pretty-but-not-for-me look as she considered my choice of outfit. I had decided to pile my hair loosely atop my head with bits hanging down around my face and neck, which was mostly, I must confess, because I couldn't manage to pin it all up on my own. My thoughts flashed back to Nyx for the briefest moment and I felt a pang of loss. I missed her. Keeping her in mind, I tied a velvety midnight black ribbon around my throat and made the bow at the nape of my neck so that the ends hung down the way they did on my dress. I had also begged and pleaded with one of the temple maids to hunt down a piece of kohl for my eyes. As for my lips, I figured they would be a nice red color by the time I arrived judging by how much time I had already spent biting them in my nervousness. I fidgeted a little under my mother's gaze; something about the way she looked at me was unnerving. "You don't like it?" I fidgeted some more.

She paused for a moment, turning the silence into a painful thing. Before she turned and walked away she mumbled something that I didn't understand. But whatever she saw, she didn't like it. Not one bit.

"Mother!" I ran back after her, my dress flowing out behind me like detached spider webs. "Persephone?" I couldn't tell what she was thinking, but I wanted to make up for the outfit I had chosen. Old habits die hard, isn't that what they say? "Mother, do you think you could help me pin the rest of my hair up? I can't do it by myself." I pleaded with my eyes for her to happy with me again, and hoped that my childish approach would work. Something shifted behind those wide eyes, that was beyond me but she followed me back to my chambers to sit at the vanity in front of the mirror. As I sat down, she stood behind me and began to rearrange some of the loose strands of hair. I watched her through the mirror, and settled in for a bit of quality hair styling time. I was surprised when I heard a soft huff come from behind me as those loose locks hit my neck again. She frowned as she explained, "They looked better down…" I offered her a smile that she did not return before exiting my room, apparently lost in her own thoughts.

I turned back to my reflection, "Look what you did. You made her upset again. Now what are we going to do? She'll spend the whole party avoiding us—me…oh…good job." I smirked in spite of myself; even if I did feel bad that she couldn't be pleased with the way I looked at the moment (because I knew it was more than just that) it was still lovely to think that I might have some peace tonight. One of the few things I learned from my visits to Olympus was that the more honored the guest, the more everyone else craves attention. In this case, that means me; so if all worked out for the best, I would be the last person anyone would check up on. So, disregarding the nerves that fluttered across my belly, I went to find my mother to leave for the party.

The trip up to Mount Olympus was uncharacteristically silent, though sideways glances from Demeter were plentiful. I resolved not to indulge her by asking her what was the matter. I quietly wondered to myself whether she had been able to guess at the reason behind my strange behavior. After all, the only reason I had said more than ten words at a time to her recently was because of the party. Was it possible that she could have made the connection between Hades and his potential for being there? How much did she know about the whole thing, come to think of it, she never even asked. I think she just assumed the worst. I caught her in another sideways glance and stared back before she turned her face away to look at something else. Glorious afternoon clouds settled around us as we rose up to reach the entrance to the Pantheon. We were early, which was unorthodox, but I liked it better that way because it meant that I wouldn't have to circle party like an overly friendly vulture waiting to give everyone my nice-to-see-you s and thank you s. Now I could sort of station myself by the entrance, and greet everyone as they came in. I doubt most of them will even remember the party is for me, I thought wryly. Everyone except one. Another jolt ripped through my heart down to the pit of my stomach at the thought of him. It was getting close to the time when he was due to arrive—but I couldn't take the waiting so I made a quick turn about the large hall the party was being held in.

The vast room was a midsummer night's dream, to coin a phrase. Each pillar was wrapped in twisted sheets of deep green cloth that lofted high up to the center of the pantheon ceiling. Hundreds of fireflies were resting their wings in the dips of the cloth as it soared toward the ceiling; they glowed softly, and sprinkled a shimmering green light on the mosaic floor. Strings and strands of cool mirrored glass fell from the ceiling like rain; flinging what little light they could catch from the setting sun, across the vast hall. A draft of air chilled by the great hall's shade swept through the marble columns and tossed the folds of my dress straight out in front of me. It didn't seem the mood for a party, beautiful though it was.

I jumped as a warm hand rested on my shoulder. "You don't like it?" a soft voice crooned into my ear. I turned and faced the voice, and found myself staring up into the goddess Aphrodite's bright green eyes. She always made me a little nervous; her eyes always seemed to be hiding something else beside what could be seen on the surface. Aphrodite was also extremely beautiful, which made her that much more intimidating. I cleared my throat, "Oh no, it's magnificent really, if not uncharacteristically, um, shady." Her sharp eyes scanned the room quickly and she turned her feline smile back at me, "You know, I was just thinking the very same thing, can one really ever trust men to do the decorating?" She winked conspiratorially at me and suddenly the room erupted in yellow light.

After it calmed down and my eyes adjusted, I could see that the empty torch holders were full of crackling flames. It created a soft barrier against the deepening dark edging the outside the pantheon. My jaw dropped in awe; the scene went from beautiful but haunted looking, to alive and ready to hold the spirits of every god and goddess in the heavens. "Hearts are not the only things in which I can inspire flames…" She grinned. Forgetting myself, I retorted, "Spending some quality time with Ares? It looks like he's taught you a thing or two." Startled, I checked her expression; if she was offended, she hid it well. "Let's never mind who _I'm _spending time with, what about you miss? Who's been teaching you a thing or two lately?" Her brilliant eyes sparked. I blushed furiously. It was silly to think that the Goddess of Love wouldn't notice my situation. She toyed with a strand of my hair, "You look different to me…" she whispered, mostly to herself it seemed. I took a step or two back, feeling suddenly as if I had a secret to keep from her. "Different? I mean, I don't _feel_ different," I hedged. She just continued to examine me, walking around me in a circle until suddenly intuition flashed across her face. "I knew it! Of course, they try to tell me I'm wrong; _do they remember whom they're talking to? No._" she started to laugh to herself. I cleared my throat to remind her that I was still here.

"Oh! Silly me." She smiled what looked like an amiable smile, but I knew better. The only reason she would have to talk to me would be if it involved another higher God or Goddess than myself. She rested one hand delicately just under her collarbone and the other reached up to touch the side of my face, her perfumed skin was oppressive so close to my nose. "Oh darling," her voice was dripping with sugar sweet empathy, "don't you worry about tonight. I know why you're here and looking so sad when this is your big night! Well, it really _is_ your big night."

This was not what I expected her to say. "What are you—" I began, but was cut off by Zeus' unmistakable entry into the hall. "Let the party begin!" he boomed, seizing the nearest cup of wine he found and tossing it down his throat.

I quickly turned my attention back to Aphrodite, but her gaze was still focused on Zeus. Her rose pink lips were pulled back at the corners, making her smile look more like she was baring her teeth. It was strange that she continued to look so beautiful even with such an expression. "Aphrodite?" I hesitated, "you were saying?" I asked, getting impatient. She had to be talking about Hades, and if she knew something I didn't, I needed to hear it. She rolled her eyes, but she still wasn't looking at me. She was looking over my shoulder at the entranceway where Zeus had entered. She mouthed over exaggerated words to someone behind me, followed by a finger across the throat, which I took to mean cut it out, and then a series of shakes and nods of the head. I turned to see who she was talking to, but the small crowd of gods and goddesses that had arrived were simply milling about and making small talk. Suspicious, I looked back at Aphrodite who I had heard let out an exasperated breath only a moment ago. No sign of it was left on face, as a too-cordial smile and wide eyes replaced it. "What were you saying Persephone?" she asked politely, as if we had just been talking about the weather.

I was starting to get angry. She and someone else apparently, were keeping something from me, and Aphrodite had come close to spilling. "What is it? Is it Hades? Is he going to be here tonight?! Aphrodite please just tell me!" But my requests fell on a deaf ear, as Ares caught her attention from across the floor. "Welcome back!" she called as she was whisked away in a flash of lilac robes.

Thank you for reading!


	24. Chapter 24

Poem by Robert Frost, "Love and a Question"

Thank you so much to all the reviewers. The story is coming to a close soon...but don't be sad, it's not over yet.

Within, the bride in the dusk alone  
Bent over the open fire,  
Her face rose-red with the glowing coal  
And the thought of the heart's desire.

Chapter 24

Persephone.

The party was in full swing; the hall was full to the brim with loud singing and cheerful conversation. Everyone was having a fabulous time, everyone except me. For the first hour or so I alternated between keeping my eye trained on the doorway and being too nervous to watch. But after two and then three and then four hours had gone by, along with the fashionably late mark, I had begun to loose hope that he would show. With each minute that passed I descended further into my private despair as the party carried on around me. I knew it was only an outside chance that he would come, but I couldn't stop my eyes from looking, my head from guessing and my heart from wishing. A shadow of a hole was etching itself back in where I had hoped there would be peace.

To pass the time, I sulked over to the drink table, where a very drunk Hermes was doling out sweet nectar. I eyed the nectar, and then Hermes, and watched as he served each god and goddess that came up. Roughly half of what was in his ladle made it into the intended cup, the other half sloshed all over the marble counters leaving sticky orange puddles. I stepped up and held out my cup, then thought better of it and set it down on the table where there was less danger of it getting slopped on my arm. "One cup please, Hermes," the messy haired god looked up as if seeing me for the first time, "Serpephone! Wheeeeen did you get here?" he slurred. I laughed, "This party is actually supposed to be for me Hermes." He scoffed at me, "You ought to-uv shown up on time then missss," a confused look, followed quickly by an over-dramatic knowing look, "Thas right…I's your las' nigh—" he interrupted himself, wide-eyed and leaned in, "I was soooer sorry about ev'rthing that happen'd…I woul' have kept you for myyyyself…" The bowl of nectar distracted him again, and he helped himself to another dangerously full cup. "Hermes, Hermes!" I eventually got his attention back; his half lidded blue eyes trying to focus on my face. I spoke very slowly, making sure he would be able to understand, "Hermes, what do you mean, this is my last night?" He closed his eyes and gave me a rueful grin tinged with sleepiness. "What do you mean you don'know? I's your las' night he—,"

A strong voice snapped the last of his answer off, "Now now Hermes, don't you think that's enough for tonight?" Zeus had strode up to our conversation, apparently just in time to stop me from hearing, for the second time, whatever it is that's being kept from me. Zeus didn't look back at me as he herded an uncooperative Hermes away from the nectar bowl. First Aphrodite, now Hermes: I'd had enough of it.

Tearing through the crowd with my eyes, I found my mother chatting with Apollo. I tossed back the half-cup of nectar Hermes had poured for me and forced my way over to Demeter. She was in the middle of reliving some story from her glory days when I approached, none too happy. "There's something everyone is keeping from me, and I bet you're in on it. Tell me what it is." I demanded.

Demeter turned to me with a carefully controlled expression, "Persephone darling, not now, I'm in the middle of a conversation, you can see that." She tittered to herself as she looked apologetically back at Apollo. "No!" I yelled, "You will tell me now. If it has anything to do with me, than I am certain you were the one who came up with it. Honestly mother, I thought you had enough trust in me to tell me the truth." She was alarmed at my outburst, but recovered quickly, "I _did_ trust you, but now I'm not so sure." She quipped at me.

"What are you talking about?"

Her face begged me to understand and spare her the argument, but I didn't have the slightest idea why she shouldn't trust me. "You aren't the same Persephone I knew before. Ever since you came back," she struggled for the right words, "…ever since you came back something has been off with you, missing even. You—," I cut her off, suddenly furious that she could even think about holding something against me, she had no idea what I was going through. But then I remembered, that I was the one who had made it that way. I chose not to say anything about Hades, but she never asked… "You have know idea what you're talking about!" my voice strained against a lump in my throat. I noticed that the hall had gone strangely silent as everyone stopped to listen. "You have no reason not to trust me. Tell me what you're hiding from me!" I commanded, my shaky voice betraying me.

Demeter's face went blank. "No."

"Demeter…" Zeus boomed in warning, "You know the agreement."

I looked around in shock. Agreement? What agreement; how many were in on this? I scanned the crowd that formed around us in a circle; each god and goddess wore the same inscrutable expression. Whatever they knew, they all knew that this was not just the standard argument between mother and daughter. The mood was distinctly sober.

I looked back at Demeter, "What agreement? Why won't you tell me?" I could feel myself grow eerily calm as I waited for an explanation, the bigger the mystery, the bigger the secret. She opened her mouth, but at first no sound came out, "I—Because if I tell you, you will leave." She was choking back tears. "She would have left either way, Demeter, the question is whether or not she will now leave you happily. You owe her an explanation, I have let you go on with this long enough." Zeus calmly interjected.

My arms felt heavy as they hung at my sides. I held my breath. Leave? Zeus' intervention could only mean one thing: that the big secret had to do with me and the time I had spent in the Underworld. Even now, I couldn't bring myself to think his name. I walked up to Demeter and took her hands in mine, "Just tell me." I pleaded softly. She sniffed, "I can't. I won't just send you away. To go down _there_. I won't do it."

"Go down where?" my voice edged dangerously. I dropped her hands like they burned me. "Zeus, where is she talking about? I suggest you tell me fast, I'm getting tired of these games." Unbidden power started to boil in my chest. They were talking about Hades.

"Very well, I will tell you, since your mother refuses," Zeus started carefully, "Persephone, soon after the news of your marriage arrived, a bargain was struck between Demeter and myself concerning the law that recently bound you to the Underworld and its ruler. Normally, the laws of marriage are unbreakable, but Hera and I saw it fit and fair to bend them for you, as your situation was less than fair." He paused here, looking uncharacteristically cautious, "Now before I tell you the terms of the agreement, I want to remind you that it was all we could do to help you."

"What are the terms?" I demanded. It was all that my disbelieving mind could manage. Zeus started again, "The agreement was that you would spend six months on earth…" he took a breath, and rushed the next part out "and six months in the Underworld. You are due to leave tonight at midnight." He flinched in anticipation, but my heart was too busy exploding with joy to pay attention to anything. I was returning to Hades! Tonight! I bit my lip to keep my smile from splitting my face in half. Relief flooded my body. I wouldn't have to hold my chin up when all I wanted to do was cry; I wouldn't have to fall asleep each night wishing his arms were around me…

I rushed over to Zeus and Demeter, "Thank you so much." I could barely contain my happiness, I felt alive again for the first time in months. Zeus looked confounded, but I moved on to Demeter taking her hands again, "So it really is a welcome back party…Mother, why couldn't you just tell me. I wish you would have," desperate tears pricked my eyes, even through my joy, "I know you don't want me to go, and I'll miss you too, but you owed me the truth—as your daughter. And as his wife." She looked suddenly appalled, I frowned, "What is it mother?" Before she could Zeus added, "What do you mean thank you?"

It was my turn to be confused. "Thank you for letting me go." I responded simply. "What? Do you mean to tell me you aren't at all upset?" Zeus sputtered.

"No." I answered, finally beginning to understand, "I'm not. I chose to marry Hades of my own free will." A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. My mother had been silent, but now she spoke quietly, "So that was what was happening? All the strange behavior?"

"Mother…" I started to clarify. "No." she cut me off. "The whole time you missed him? I thought you were _upset_ because of what happened to you: touched by that filth. _That_ I would have understood, but this? No, no I don't accept this, not at all. I was trying to protect you, and this is how you thank me? By running off like some cheap—," "Demeter _enough_!" Aphrodite hissed from behind me, "this is your daughter and she has made her choice."

"What choice, Aphrodite? She was stolen from me. Nobody asked _me_! Nobody thought to see if this is what Persephone wanted for her life. And for all you know about virtue you have no place in this discussion" Demeter yelled.

"You hag!" Aphrodite leered, "I didn't see you giving her any choice concerning the bargain, and I don't see you giving her any choice now."

"Stop it! Both of you!" I screamed to make myself heard over the two screeching goddesses. Demeter, Aphrodite, and every important god and goddess to watch over the earth had all their attention on me. I took a deep breath to calm the anger that would have tripped my words before they left my mouth. "All of you, I demand silence for at least as long as it takes for someone other than yourselves to speak one sentence." I seethed. "I'm only going to say this once, and I will say it in the simplest terms so that all of you will understand. It's true that I was kidnapped and taken to the Underworld. It is also true that I was offered the opportunity to leave." My mother's jaw dropped. I continued, "I chose to stay, and I chose to marry Hades."

It was Zeus who spoke first, "But what of Hermes' report that you were forced through the marriage ceremony?"

I was taken aback for a moment, but replied, "A misunderstanding. That is the reason I chose to come back to earth. See, I make a lot of choices. And I'm going to make one more." I walked up to Demeter, who had silent tears pouring down her face. The very sight made mine water as well. "Mother, it hurt so badly…and I didn't know what to do…" she only nodded, eyes downcast. "To think that I would never see him again…it nearly killed me I loved him so much." I began to cry, but a chilled sternness entered my voice. "If only you had told me, maybe then I could have been your daughter."

She looked up at me, eyes swollen, "I was only trying to protect you…when I looked at you that day, I thought you might have been damaged…please don't go." She reached out for my hands but I pulled them sharply away. She closed her eyes in a gesture of pure anguish. I turned my back to her and walked to the front of the hall, the crowd parted and reformed in my wake.

I held my head high for as long as it took to exit the party, but as soon as I was alone under the cool night sky I fell onto the nearest marble bench I could find. My head held in my hands, I tried to figure out what I should do next. Now that I knew the truth, I guessed I was free. I glanced over at the sundial. No help. But from the position of the moon, I guessed it was about ten o'clock: two hours before I was due back in the Underworld. That familiar jolt of nervous anticipation rippled uncomfortably through my stomach. I had no idea how it was supposed to happen, was I going to be magically transported down there with the snap of someone's fingers? Did someone have to be notified that I was ready? Am _I _supposed to do something, or does Zeus have to tell me I can go?

No, I thought, it doesn't have to be this way. He and my mother wouldn't be the ones to tell me when I could go back to Hades. I'm going to find him myself. With a new sense of determination, I decided I would go down to Hades right now.

review, if you please.


	25. Chapter 25

This is the very last stanza from Elizabeth Barret-Browning's "The Lady's Yes"

Sorry about the wait, these ending chapters are so difficult.

Thanks so much to everyone who continues to read and review!

By your truth she shall be true--  
Ever true, as wives of yore--  
And her yes, once said to you,  
SHALL be yes for evermore.

Chapter 25

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, I thought to myself after quickly descending from Mount Olympus and to look for the legendary earth entrance to Hades. _The last time I went down there I had an invitation, _I thought wryly. Maybe this time the earth didn't want me back squirming around in its bowels, and for that matter, maybe its ruler didn't want me back there either. I wavered dangerously between doubt and conviction, going backwards or forwards, as I navigated the landscape, which had suddenly changed from field to forest. Funny, I thought, I don't think this was here the last time I looked up.

It was rumored that there was an entrance to the Underworld above what would be the south end of Hades' kingdom, could you see it above ground. So I left Olympus in a spot that would take me much closer than the place I normally left from to return home. I walked for about fifteen minutes, absorbed completely in my own thoughts and worries, when suddenly it happened. The scene shifted; I guessed that was the trick, in order to find it, you couldn't be looking for it.

A grove of poplar trees circled around me, silhouetted black, eliminating all detail against the dusty night sky. The ground below my feet was oddly comfortable, flat earth that gave gently when stepped upon, covered in impossibly thin strands of grass, rather than blades. I took my shoes off, grateful that the slap of my sandals against my feet was gone. I squinted, fighting the dimness of the forest, but it was no use, in every direction the forest looked endlessly the same even, to my mild horror, the direction I just came from. It was as if the door to the outside world had closed behind me and now there was nothing but a wall of eerie black bony poplars.

I'll admit I was spooked, but the dense quiet and the lack of any distinguishing features that might indicate an entrance left me to ruminate over my decision. I had time, while I was aimlessly searching, to decide if I should have waited, or if I did find the entrance, how to find Hades and then (if I ever got that far,) what to do when I did. Would he want to see me? Was he still angry about the wedding? It was unnerving to walk into a situation that's so important and have no idea what the other person even feels to begin with. Like walking into battle not knowing if you should bring your sword or your firmest handshake, you could either come out with an ally or a spear lodged firmly in your gut.

Another fifteen minutes passed. Or I guessed it was fifteen minutes, there was no real way to tell here: the light remained the same, each set of trees looked like the last and the one before that. Despair was setting in. Now the quiet wasn't peaceful, it was tense and anxious, waiting for something to suddenly spring out. Panic rang out in my head as the minutes ticked by, alerting me that something should have happened by now. How did the heroes find their way down, dumb luck? I knew Hades hated visitors just as much as he hated people leaving the Underworld when they weren't supposed to. I gulped down the knot of fear that worked itself up in my throat. By this time my most of my hair had fallen loose from the pins that held it earlier, and the long webby fabric of my dress got tangled in my feet every few paces, making my steps erratic and off balance. A twig snapped. I jumped and turned to look behind me. There was nothing there that I could see. Another snap. I jumped again, but noticed that it was coming from _above_ instead of behind me. I stopped dead, because when I turned back around I was facing the largest elm tree I had ever seen.

It stood alone in the grove of poplars, ash gray towering above a sea of black. Its leaves were the same ash color as the trunk and branches, and they rustled and cracked softly in a breeze that I couldn't feel down at the roots. I looked harder at the leaves of the mighty elm; they weren't the normal shape for an elm tree, instead of the uniform serrated oval, each was different. I gasped as I realized that most of them weren't shaped like leaves at all. Washed gray, I saw a flat miniature palace, then one shaped like a chariot, another like a tiny fields of grain. Almost every imaginable human symbol or object seemed to cling somewhere among the somber branches, all the way up to the upper most limb. This sparked my memory, I had seen this somewhere before, though not so vividly, had it been a dream? No. I had seen a scaled down ink illustration of this very tree on the map of the Underworld in Hades' library. This was the tree of False Dreams. A small shudder of relief escaped my lips because I knew I was in the outer regions of the Underworld. I had gotten the first part right. But I quickly sucked the gasp right back in when I remembered who and what else lurked in these woods. Thanatos was rumored to live here, but I saw that he spent much of his time in the palace assisting Hades. But Thanatos would have been the least of my worries; the Atlas of the Underworld also said that this was the residence of Fear, Hunger, Agony, the Erinyes, Harpies, the Hydra, Gorgons, and Chimeras among other things.

As each one was rattled off the list in my mind, terror pulsed faster through my veins. I doubted they would recognize their queen, and even if they did, it probably wouldn't matter especially not if Hades was in fact, still angry.

Spurred on by sharp panic, I dropped my sandals and sprinted around the great elm, pushing my legs to run faster than they ever have before, fueled on by wave after wave of adrenaline. All I could hear was the muffled pounding of my steps and my thundering heartbeat. I whipped my head back after checking that no one or nothing had noticed me here, but running at full tilt caused my hair fly all the way around and over my eyes. Partially blinded and pointlessly struggling to move my hair to get a better view of the dark, I tripped and was sent hurtling toward the ground. A sick shock rippled through my stomach when I didn't hit solid ground after a second or two as one normally does when they trip, instead I was still falling.

I had unwittingly fallen into what looked to be a giant snake hole with circular, rough earthen walls, and a bottom made of nothing but darkness. And rocks, as I was soon to discover when I crashed down on the craggy hill, and tumbled downward, too disoriented to grab anything to break my fall.

All I could see was inky blackness and the occasional flash of silvery fabric from my dress, mashed together into a dizzy whirlwind that wouldn't stop as I fell end over end down the rocky bottom. My bones jarred painfully with each landing and I could feel instant bruising flowering around my hips, knees and elbows. Just when I thought I might never stop tumbling, I smashed headlong into a wall that gave when I crashed into it and finally broke my fall.

I winced as I tried to sit up and figure out which direction was up. Groaning, I clapped my hands over my ears, trying to stop the piercing ringing sound that had erupted in my head. Another groan. I froze, did that fall knock me senseless or did I really hear that, because I knew I didn't make that second noise. Squinting through the dark, I cautiously placed my hands on the rocky floor to stand up. But it wasn't cold stone under my fingertips; it was fabric. My eyes flew wide open, trying in vain to capture more light. My other hand shot up to my mouth as I moved up the refined cloth. I stood. The cloth stood. Holding my breath, eyes still blind; I moved my hand further up. Behind the cloth was solid and strong, I felt the smooth contours and lines underneath. Up a little higher I inched, fingertips scarcely grazing the fabric as it shifted to skin. Rounded throat, Adams apple, tendons pulled taut as my hand roamed higher. I reached my other hand up, placing them on either side of a graceful jaw. My hands were trembling, I knew these lines as well as my own.

Yellow sparked light flared up from previously unseen torches along the cavernous earth walls, flooding my eyes and making them sting. In the bright white flash before they adjusted, my eyes stole a single frame of him. My memory and dreams had failed miserably at recreating his alarming beauty. In that still frame I saw the sharp grey eyes that had captivated me and drawn me in from the start. They were still looking down at the hands I had been too startled to take down from his magnificent face. I sucked air rapidly back into my lungs and threw my arms back down to my sides; Hades was standing right in front of me and he had broken my fall.

He reached up and touched the place where my hands had been. I struggled for breath; suddenly there wasn't enough air in the cavern we were standing in. "H-Hades, I was just…I didn't know…how…" I faltered spectacularly. I kicked a few stray rocks around, staring hard at the ground, and tried again, "I was coming to see you."

"I know." Was all he said. I smirked in spite of myself, "Apparently I was the only one who didn't know I was coming here tonight.

"What?" he asked.

"So that's what that sounds like from the other side…I was beginning to think I would be the only person to sound confused around here."

"Persephone, what do you mean you didn't know you were coming here?" he asked again, "It is the appointed time."

"Um, No one told me about the six month change of scenery. I had to force it out of them. They even had a _party_. What kind of perverse logic is that? Oh well, I'm over that, I'm here now…"

But Hades wasn't listening. His fists were balled tightly at his sides, each one engulfed in angry black flames. His eyes seethed upwards and I was grateful that there was plenty of earth between him and the heavens, because otherwise I think someone would have received a very nasty scorch mark on the backside from the sheer hatred in his glare. "Hades…" I ventured. The flames around his fists expanded violently up to his forearms. "How dare they…" was all I could understand from the rapid string of words that barely escaped alive through his clenched teeth.

Swallowing the fear in my throat, I took a step toward him and reached into the black flames. His hand was ice cold as I brought it up to my lips and kissed his unclenched palm. His piercing stare shot down to my face, eyes wide, flames still shooting from his hands. Aside from our collision, this was the first real contact we had had since our wedding day. Wave after wave of memory flooded my brain as my lips met his marble skin. I lifted my head and our eyes collided.

He exhaled with a shudder and held my hand with both of his, black flames engulfing our clasped hands. Then he dropped them suddenly, the fire extinguished.

Stricken, I asked, "Am I too late?"

"Too late? You're early." He said frowning.

"I meant am I too late for you. When I left, did I ruin what we had? It would kill me to hear you say yes, I've missed you more than I thought anyone could miss anything."

He looked at me like I had told him I was running away to start my own sheep farm. That is, very confused. "I was worried that you wouldn't want to come back at all. I had convinced myself that you would refuse to come down after your six months were up. I certainly didn't think I would run into you here." He said.

I grinned, "What can I say? As soon as I heard about the bargain Zeus and company made, I hurried down. Although," I hesitated, "I almost turned back a few times because _I _thought _you_ might not want me here."

"Don't ever say that." A dark look stormed over his flawless features. "There will never be a time when I don't want you here. With me." He ran his hand through his black hair and sighed heavily, "Persephone, that day…I never meant it to be such a disaster, you deser—."

I threw my arms around his neck and interrupted his sentence with a kiss. He caught on a second later and I felt his strong arms wrap tightly around my waist. After a moment, my feet were no longer touching the ground. His lips clung to mine and I knew he longed for me every bit as much as I wanted him. Between ragged breaths, in pauses where our lips where somehow not touching, I whispered his name. He answered by tightening his iron hold on me.

"This can't be real," I murmured.

"Why not?" he paused, keeping his face inches from mine. The closeness of his staggering beauty made me suddenly dizzy and I forgot what my argument was.

"You want it to be real, don't you?" he prompted again, with the barest hint of a smile in his voice.

"Yes, yes." I said quickly. He kissed me until I ran out of breath. "But I've wished for this so many times, how do I know it isn't just someone taking pity on a poor broken-hearted girl by making me hallucinate to see what I want?" I said, half serious.

Hades placed a gentle kiss on my temple and asked, "Is there anything I can do to prove that you're really here with me?"

I considered, "You'd have to say something that my brain would definitely not come up with. Something I know I couldn't make up."

His sober eyes lit up as a sly grin tipped the corners of his mouth, "I don't know what I could say, but if you'll follow me down, I could show you some things you'd never come up with in any of your dreams…" His hand crept slowly up my back to rest at the side of my neck where my jaw meets my throat.

"I don't know…I think you're not giving my imagination enough credit." I pretended not to be phased by his touch.

"Oh I don't doubt you," he said, tracing my bottom lip with his thumb, "but at least let me try…" he finished in a whisper that made my stomach do some very inventive gymnastics.

Eyes closed, I tried to protest one last time, "If this were real, we'd be talking about everything that happened these past months…"

But Hades had already moved on to my neck, and I could feel every word he said brush against my skin, "We'll talk later. After all, we have all night and I've missed you."

"That's exactly what I hoped you would say," I sighed as he took my hand and started down the path to the Underworld.

Review if you please.


	26. Chapter 26

Emily Dickinson's "The Heart Asks Her Pleasure First"

And now for the cliche-by-now apology: sorry, so sorry for taking forever. Big thanks to those who keep reading. :)

The heart asks pleasure first  
And then, excuse from pain-  
And then, those little anodynes  
That deaden suffering;

And then, to go to sleep;  
And then, if it should be  
The will of its Inquisitor,  
The liberty to die.

Chapter 26

I woke up to the familiar sight of pale yellow light and gray stone ceiling. It had been months since I'd seen them in person rather than dreams, but it felt like coming home. I savored the feel of the cool linen sheets against my shoulders and cheek as I rolled over. Shock rippled through my stomach when I looked to where Hades had been laying and saw he wasn't there. I flew bolt upright, clutching the sheets around me, eyes searching the broad room. He wasn't there. Tripping out of bed, I stepped over my discarded dress from the night before and cautiously peered down the hallway.

Luckily for me, the palace itself was largely deserted, it was the outside that was brimming with souls, or shades as Hades called the more lingering ones. I hurried to the dining room, dragging a long linen train behind me knowing that it wouldn't catch on these smooth marble floors. I chose the dining room because it was farthest away, meaning I could peek into more rooms as I passed rather than running around in circles all morning. But each room I looked in was sans Hades.

A few minutes later, after a one-armed fight with the iron handles, I burst through a set of wide but low mahogany doors. The doors slammed shut behind me, making me jump and forcing me to re-secure my sheet.

The dining room was probably the only place in the palace, other than the bedrooms, that really deserved the word room rather than hall. It was not a large room by comparison: easily crossed in ten paces, the walls were dark speckled green granite, the floor a polished cherry wood covered by a generous fur skin rug. On the lengthwise wall hung a tapestry depicting an enormous weeping willow. Each dripping branch had the name of a god or goddess running down it in elegant script, occasionally one would join another and they would pour together into a new name on a new branch. From where I stood I could make out most of the names, and I smiled to myself when I saw that Hades and my names had been linked.

In the middle of the room stood a heavy looking lion-claw table, flanked by two crimson velvet-lined, high back chairs. I walked around the table toward the only other opening in the room. But before I could get there, Hades walked through it, carrying a metal tray of fruit and two glasses of ambrosia. Relief of tension I hadn't been aware I was holding flooded through my body.

His expression was unfathomable as he caught sight of me. He set the tray quietly on the table, never taking his eyes off me. Suddenly self-conscious, I tucked my hair behind my ears and clutched my sheet tighter. "What?" I asked.

"You really are here," he murmured incredulously.

"Nowhere else," I said softly, self-consciousness forgotten, entranced by the heartbreaking smile that lighted on his lips.

He exhaled and walked toward me. Our eyes met and I understood the need for repeated assurance that each of us was present and real to the touch. His fingers ran up and down the sides of my arms as I leaned into his chest.

"I was just bringing you some fruit," Hades elaborated. I laughed, "I could have come with you, my legs are apparently in working order."

I could hear the smile in his voice, "Yes, but then my plan to keep you in bed with me all day would have been foiled. The idea was that you would want for nothing and have no reason to leave." He considered, "But you have ruined everything now," a mock scowl on his face.

"Ha! I was to be your captive was I?" I joked.

Something changed behind his eyes, "No, not captive; not my prisoner." He said the last part like a question. I didn't answer right away. Unbidden, an image of the sallow woman from the garden floated up in my mind. "Hades, there was a woman, I was um, gardening and she appeared to me one night," I started, Hades' eyebrows raised in interest, "and she said the most awful things about us, and you." I stopped for a moment, not wanting my confession to sound like an accusation. It was silly to believe what she said, but doubt was such a nagging thing and if I couldn't ask Hades, then who could I ask?

I recounted the conversation as best I could while summoning it forward in my memory and playing it in my mind's eye. Again I saw her ochre silhouette against the aging sunset and I heard her sickly sweet voice speak, "Persephone dear, how are you this evening?"

I stood up, but wished I hadn't because I now I could distinguish features in her sallow face. They were uniformly warped and thin, startling me enough to take a step back. "Do I know you?" I asked, though I was positive I would have remembered if I had.

"I'm afraid not, forgive the intrusion. My name is Acantha, and I've come here upon a certain someone's bidding."

"Who's bidding?" I asked, suspicious.

"Someone I think you'd like to hear news from, regrettable though it may be," she simpered.

"Who is it?" I interrupted.

"Please remember, I am your friend and am only thinking of your best interests," she started again.

"Just tell me who it is!" I yelled. I was in no mood to play guessing games with people I had never met before. But she wasn't fazed by my outburst. She smiled a false-looking smile and said one word: "Hades." His name escaped her mouth like gas from a bloated corpse. It disgusted me to hear something so foul say his name. "Excuse me?" I demanded.

Her smile widened, looking more sincere but at the same time more menacing. She'd hooked me. "Hades wished me to relay a message to you. I begged not to be the one, I asked but he is so—"

"Who are you to say these things to me? Why couldn't he tell me himself?!" I shouted.

Calm as ever, in some mockery of wisdom, she replied, "He thought you might ask that. But he believes the message I bear would cause unnecessary, ah, attachment, were it to come from him."

"…Attachment?" I asked, quieted. She nodded solemnly, "Now I know this will be difficult to hear," she placed a bony hand on my shoulder, but I was too distracted to be repulsed, "…but Hades has asked me to tell you never to return to the Underworld if you were at all considering it."

"What?" I was stricken, breath coming short. She tutted quietly and stroked my back. Brusquely, I shirked off her hand. "Tell me exactly what he said."

Some of her airs dropped and her face went flat, "He said that he regrets marrying you and that he should have realized sooner that you couldn't be any more wrong for him than you already are, being _what_ you are." She said frankly.

"And what am I?"

She leveled her gaze with my mine. "An unlovable, stupid child who couldn't even break her mother's leash long enough to learn how to properly love a man." She smiled, "If you know what I mean."

"How dare you?" I screamed. "Get out of my sight you lying sack of excrement!" I seethed. "You have no right to speak of things that you don't understand."

She held her hands up in light-hearted defeat. "I understand plenty, but fine, that's how you want it?" She turned and walked away in her awkward gait, but then gave a theatrical turn. "Silly me!" she gasped in what I gathered was supposed to be a girlish lisp, "I almost forgot; I was supposed to give you this as well."

She dug excitedly through the bosom of her dingy robe until she produced a limp, dark thing about the size of her open hand. "A parting gift." She said brightly.

As I scrutinized it in the twilight I noticed it had a long stem and a dark bloom, but it was severely damaged. I rolled it over, and one of the petals fell apart from the rest, exposing a delicate crimson center that faded into mottled white marred by decaying brown scars. It occurred to me that this was the very same flower I had plucked the day Hades stole me from the earth. In my heart I knew it as soon as I saw it in that ugly yellow hand, but my eyes were slow to catch on.

She gave a derisive laugh and left me to get toppled by fresh waves of shock and numbness.

I finished my story and looked cautiously up at Hades but he wasn't looking at me. He was starting hard at the table, his expression murderous. In a carefully controlled voice he said, "She came to me as well. Her name is Discord. Acantha is just a name she uses to distract people from what she really is."

Acantha…it sounded so familiar. It snapped. Acantha. From one of my lessons with mother long ago, I remembered that Acantha was another name for thorn, or prickle. Mother didn't like to dwell on such unpleasant things. I should have known better, Discord's name was almost too ironic to be believable.

I made a disgusted noise, "What did she tell you? That I'd run off and married the goat half of Pan?"

Hades' knuckles were white, whiter than usual, as they made hard fists at his sides. "Hades?" I ventured. I hadn't thought my joke to be in _that_ poor taste, but he continued to seethe, breaths hissing through his teeth like fire. To him, no one else was in the room; it was filled only with him and his uncontrollable anger. I expected at any moment it would explode in to something tangible and fiery, something more like the flames of hell than anything I'd seen in the Underworld so far. But something happened that I didn't expect: his rage disappeared. Well, not just his rage, all of him. I was left stunned standing in nothing but a sheet and with nothing but a platter of fruit for company.

"Where…? It figures…" I grumbled, "another wild goose chase around the palace…" but as I thought about it his expression just before he left, I worried about whoever was unfortunate enough to be in the place where he was materializing as I spoke.

I spun on my heel, snatched an apple off the tray and sprinted back to my room.

As I threw open the door of my room, I paused only briefly to admire the familiar décor of my untouched room, rushing past the huge green-covered bed, and the dormant fireplace to the wide-shouldered armoire I knew would still contain all of my clothes. From it, I yanked out a scarlet bell-sleeved gown, stuffed myself into it taking as many shortcuts as I could. I shuffled to the mirror, still putting my shoes on as I went, and checked my reflection. Definitely just-out-of-bed, but passable. I did my best to smooth it down as I dashed around the corner to the throne room, where I hoped he would be reappearing.

A minute later flat, I skidded to a halt at the entrance. Seeing that it was empty, I stepped quietly inside. Feeling that my efforts were a bit anticlimactic, I took up time by examining the two imposing onyx thrones at the end of the hall. But just as I bent down to look at the carved detailing on the arm of the Queen's seat of power, a thunderous crack boomed directly behind me. Simultaneously, I jumped and spun, gripping the armrests for support and tumbling backward onto the seat.

Hades had returned. From where, I wasn't certain, but he wore the same dangerous expression that he left with, and it warned me not to get up and approach. Though I wanted to, because I was curious about the parcel he had brought back with him. Slung over his shoulder, was a large, dingy sack full of something oddly misshapen—and breathing.

"Hades what is that? Where did you go? Answer me!"

He lofted the sack into the air and it landed hard on the stone floor, making a sickening rattle as if several pieces of whatever it was had come detached from the whole. "Good Lord, is that a person?"

His eyes were still fuming, his mouth set into a hard line, "Hardly."

I got up slowly, watching Hades' expression. I reached down to move the dirty cloth. "Don't touch it," he barked. But it didn't matter, now a bony fingered hand had escaped and was now grasping at the edges of the sack that was covering it. My nose was assaulted by the horrible stench that flew up from under the cloth. The reeking smell was soon forgotten as the sack unfolded to reveal that it was not a sack at all, rather tangled and misplaced layers of robe covering an ugly yellow figure I recognized all too well.

"You!" I shrieked, hands flying up to cover my nose.

Her face was badly beaten, a patchwork of angry purple bruises, half-scabbed gashes and sallow skin. As she spotted me, her eyes lit up with such twisted energy it was conceivable that she may not have been hurt at all. She smiled at me, reopening a cut over her thin top lip. She ran her filmy tongue over the blood and pus that welled up on her putrid skin. My gag reflex tightened its grip on my throat, making breathing difficult. Her rickety bones creaked and cracked as she shifted to her knees. "Dread Queen!" she started.

"Never speak your filthy words to her!" Hades roared, hauling back and delivering a tremendous kick to her ribs. She collapsed instantly, and I understood where her bruises came from. Laughter bubbled up from the crumpled heap that was her body. The unfailing girlish giggle dribbled from her swollen mouth, "Not nice Hades," she tutted, as though he were a boy being scolded for bad manners, "After everything I've done for you?"

A snarl transformed his beautiful features as he set to strike her again.

"No!" I yelled.

"What?" he stopped mid-blow.

"You see, she knows," Discord interjected, "she appreciates the truth I have shown her, the life I _saved_ her from."

I was tempted to hit her myself, "You don't know when to stop do you? I wonder if you believe the lies you tell?" I spat.

Hades was still staring at me. I spoke above Discord, looking directly into his eye, "Why did you bring her here?"

His eyes perceptibly darkened, "To be judged."


	27. Chapter 27

oh my gosh it's been so long! thank you so much to those of you who still read these grammatically insensitive ramblings. :D The poem is the first stanza of Emily Dickinson's "She rose to his requirement, dropped"

She rose to his requirement, dropped  
The playthings of her life  
To take the honorable work  
Of woman and of wife.

Chapter 27

The last word boomed across the empty hall and hit my ears with full force. "Oh right. Yes, well, you'll be wanting your chair then," I stammered, stepping away from the overbearing throne I had recently fallen into.

"No." was all he said.

I stopped dead and looked at him, widening my eyes in question. If we had mastered telepathy this would have been much easier; in my head I was yelling, what do you mean you don't want your chair? Is this judging-to-go, judgment for the god on the run and you don't need your chair anymore? But I imagine all it looked like to him was me standing with a just-caught-fish expression on my face. Hades nodded a small sharp nod and took a large step back and to the right, sweeping his arm out toward the floor as if to say, _it's all yours. My Queen_, his smirk added.

Discord watched all this with great interest, looking for new material she could use later but I wasn't going to give her anything. Suddenly my breath was strained in my chest. In this moment culminated every wish I had ever made to be taken seriously, and this was the perfect moment for me to prove that I was worthy of the station I had been given. Yet pressure only added to the terror that was strangling my voice box and rippling tremors to my hands. And these were the hands and voice that were now responsible for the sentencing of another being. Granted this particular being was vile and in all ways disgusting, it was the continuation of her existence that I held in my hands. And when I looked down at her, she merely gazed back at me as if politely waiting to be shown to another room for refreshments.

How bold! She had the nerve to look me in the eye knowing that her next moment's behavior could decide whether she spent her days above or below and still do nothing. Surely it isn't stupidity that motivates her. I scrutinized her a moment longer, and just as I broke my gaze I saw that familiar twinkle of cunning.

Flames burst through my brain, incensing vengeance. How could I have missed it? It was part of her game. I stepped forward, gathering my full height. Carefully I said, "Discord, judgment is to be passed upon you. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

"Madam, I have done nothing wrong," She simpered, sickly sweet, "would you send me to Tartarus?"

Quelling the rage that boiled up once more, I considered. And then I answered, "Discord, I suppose an argument can be made that no blame lay with you." Hades watched intently as I continued, "Similarly, one cannot blame a _thorn _for being sharp. Just as a thorn's purpose is to prick, so is your purpose to incite strife. And in fulfilling your heavenly obligation, your actions cannot be called incorrect; indeed to do so would be to punish you for existing. No, as Queen of the Underworld, I will not send you to Tartarus."

She supplicated herself at my feet, an oddly satisfying sensation. "Gods and goddesses of Olympus will praise you for your wisdom!" she declared, though her words were muffled by her prostrate state. "They will laud you fairest, fairest in every possible light." She reminded me strongly of a worm squirming and wriggling to find grass. "Athena will call you sister, Zeus—"

"Silence, Discord," I demanded in my best bellow. "Do not think, for even a fraction of a moment, that I will allow your foolish praise to inflate my esteem. You guess too quickly that your actions go without consequence."

The expression of genuine fear on Discord's face was more gratifying than I care to admit—finally I was a step ahead of her, and she would never be able to cross me again. My anger reached its peak and still I fought to control my speech, "No, do not mistake my judgment as excuse on your behalf. I have for you a personal punishment, an godly indulgence I am sure you are quite familiar with, having inspired many in your day—maybe you can appreciate it," a cold smile slid across my lips, "So now tell me what you think of this: since you are so fond of gifts, I have one for you. You will wear it always as a mark of your servitude to me."

Power surged through my arms to my fingertips and lashed out at Discord, seizing her and suspending her in mid-air.

"You have no right!" she sputtered, her face forced upward, wrapped in the silver light of my power, addressed no one in particular.

"Oh I do, it was granted to me by the marriage you tried so hard to thwart," I sang in velvety sarcasm. Feeling my power gather, hair flying up and haloing my face, I felt the same strength that summoned the millions of butterflies for my mother. Dark, twisted vines pierced the stone ceiling, forcing themselves through ever-widening cracks to reach down to Discord's floating form. With the wave of my hand, her burlap robe disintegrated, exposing her awkward body. She was hanging prone before me, but my vision tunneled to the impatient vines, which had sprung snarling thorns, waiting for my signal. A sharp flick of my wrist and they threw themselves hungrily on her, though not devouring her, instead wrapping her in a contorted embrace. For a moment it was nothing but thick brown vines violently circling and throttling a silver glow. But as my hair fell from its halo and the wind that whirled around me calmed, I saw my work, "How do you like it?"

Discord's back arched unnaturally as she drifted back down. Her eyes had lost their focus, disconnected with reality as her vine dress constricted her rib cage more with each breath.

"Answer me." I snapped. It would have been beautiful, a floor length gown mock-up, somewhere between an elegant plant and a torture device, slender and deadly. Discord looked up at me, eyes shining with shock, "It's beautiful. Mistress," she bit the words, struggling against unnecessary movement, "and how long will I have the privilege of wearing such a robe?"

I no longer took pleasure in her false obsequiousness, but stonily I said, "As long as is fair." And I turned to exit, hoping frantically that the secret stone passage I had used opened from this side without any tricks. All the righteous anger was evaporating from my body, leaving only raw nerves. If I stayed any longer I knew I would only be horrified by my work, but this was what I felt to be right even if my conscience was slow to catch up. My last touch was to leave the term of the sentence indefinite, taking away the only grim hope the indicted soul has—the count of days until their suffering ends. Three days, for example, can feel like an eternity when there is no end in sight, no manageable way of thinking about the sentence only bleak indefinite stretches of time.

I spotted a long spidery crack in the wall and pried it smoothly open, spinning on my heel and fading into the darkness of the secret chamber with what I hoped was aloof resignation. I let my back thump heavily against the wall and let my eyes wade through the sudden thick blackness. I reached my hands up to my face and ran them over my nose, cheekbones, mouth and jaw, checking for monstrous wrinkles and fangs. Finding none, I heaved a huge sigh, which was met by a loud, stinging crack a few feet in front of me.

Instinctively one hand shot out, hurling knife-edged willow whips at the unseen source of the noise. But something caught my wrist, sending the branches off target. It forced my arm high and wound me up so that my back was pressed hard against it, trapped by my own arm. "How dare you!" I screeched with the little breath I had left, "You have no right to—." But a deep silvery voice whispered against my ear, "Oh I do."

"Hades," I hissed indignantly.

He only ran his free hand slowly down the length of my side, "And since you are so fond of gifts," he whipped me around to face him, "I have one for you." And he closed his mouth over mine, reminding me how delicious it was to be so entirely enclosed in him, so possessed by each individual breath from his lips as it brushed mine. He canted his head and pulled slowly away, carefully leaving the last kiss perfectly on my mouth, "How do you like it?" he asked archly.

"Not at all," I shouted, suddenly remembering myself, and thoroughly not appreciating the use of my own words. They sounded so much more sinuous coming from him, so solemn and promising in every way to keep their underlying threat. "Why would you do that?" I demanded, "Out of nowhere like that."

A quiet snicker. A smart slap against cloth.

"The first being I ever judged was a goddess, and you think that's funny?"

"Please Persephone, you were brilliant. It's almost disturbing how naturally this comes to you. You were born to do this."

"Either that or I have a serious latent vengeance impulse."

"Even better," He smirked, placing a kiss along my jaw, "you are a beautiful, fearsome force to behold."

I grinned despite myself, "But I had no idea we were allowed to judge the gods…"

"Well technically we judge all beings, but the application of punishment, and the justness—as you so aptly pointed out—are often impractical and contradictory. And there are plenty of things you aren't yet aware you're capable of," His voice dripping with suggestion.

"Is that so?" I asked, coyly dropping my hands to Hades' waist and trailing my fingertips to his slender hips. I searched for his eyes in the dark, they were screaming silent acquiescence for whatever plans I was making. "Because I'm already completely aware of what I'm capable of, and if I'm reading you correctly, you know it too."

"Care to prove me wrong then?" he asked.

I considered, leaning closer and closer to him, gradually matching every line of my body against his, eliminating all separation save the space between our lips, and then whispered, "Maybe some other time." Quickly, I stepped out of his arms and turned toward the throat of the passageway.

"Well how long from now?" Hades demanded, reaching to pull me back.

I slipped deftly away, "As long as is fair."


	28. Chapter 28

Again, so so sorry for the wait. This isn't edited terribly well so I apologize for any errors in grammar, content, continuity...all that. So without further ado, the poem is the first bit of "The Soul's Expression" by Elizabeth Barret Browning.

With stammering lips and insufficient sound  
I strive and struggle to deliver right  
That music of my nature, day and night  
With dream and thought and feeling interwound  
And only answering all the senses round

Chapter 28

Hades.

Left in frustrated silence I stepped back out of the passage behind my throne. I couldn't help but smile to myself, Persephone was not bad. Not bad at all. Her first judgment, and likely one of the few she would ever have to make because of the Three Judges, went off stunningly: it was ironic, bittersweet for me, probably shocking for her. Yes, shock is what I read on her face. It was disbelief that she could slip so easily into her new role, one that typically demands unfeeling precision, but one that she brought just the right amount of personality to. I could still taste the seductive tinge of vengeance in the air, the perfect symmetry between crime and punishment in all its delicate intricacies. She wove all that into the very air I breathed without even realizing what she was doing to me. To Discord, rather. It was hard to remember that Discord was in the room; to rip my eyes away from Persephone's work would have left me bereft and incomplete. There was no doubt that she had talent. And what's worse is that she knows it now, maybe not the full extent, but she knows something—which she proved by denying me. As that excruciating ease increases and becomes natural to her, so will the control it takes to simply watch my wife.

I shifted my legs uncomfortably in my seat, crossing and uncrossing. This just won't do. She will have to give in soon. I'll see to it personally. Very personally.

Persephone.

Nyx and I, after a long catching up, were walking into the main hall, chatting animatedly about some fresh gossip I had missed out on during my stay with my mother, when I saw Hades stoop to pick up a large cream envelope. He examined the outside carefully without opening it, and then held it out at arm's length.

"What is he doing?" Nyx asked.

"As if I know what goes on in his head. He's my husband, to be sure, but verbose he most certainly is not," I said. "Wait, is that…?" A gold glint from the envelope caught my eye. "Hades wait!" I shouted across the hall. I recognized the gold circle of Zeus' seal stamped on the flap of the envelope and that could only mean important business. But Hades was already gathering an impressive fireball at his palm, and I didn't need the help of the maniacal gleam in his eye to figure out that the invitation was about to get it.

"Hades! Wait that's important!" I yelled, as I dashed across the hall. He didn't hear me, or more likely, he was ignoring me. Just in time, I reached up and shoved his arm and the fireball away from the message. "Ok, _Ares_, what's with the fire works?" I asked as I tried to snatch the envelope away.

He smirked and moved it quickly just out of my reach. "I already know what it is."

Arms directly overhead, I jumped up to grab the envelope, "Well then what is it?" My voice strained as I prepared for another jump. "Why do you keep _doing that_?" I asked, exasperated, "I just want to see what it says."

Hades just stood there, hand on hip, the other holding the envelope over my head, "If you want it, just take it," He snickered.

"Hades," Jump. "This is," Jump. "Ridiculous!" I huffed indignantly as he stood there and smirked an absurdly handsome smirk. If he wanted to play children's games, I would play children's games. I made like I was going to jump once more, wound up, and kicked him heartily on the shin. A small gasp and he bent down to hold his leg. On his way down I swiped the envelope. "Thank you darling," I smiled.

He grumbled under his breath as I started to read the message aloud.

_Hades. Before you destroy this message like you did the last—which was not the least bit amusing—I ask you to read through it once. Or at least give it to your wife to read, and then do with it what you will. No fireballs. No dark energy. No swords either. _

_Put it down._

Nyx's tinkling laugh echoed across the hall, "Hades, I believe your brother is trying to tell you that you've become predictable after all these years."

Hades stood beside me and slid an arm around my waist, scowling, "What do you expect I'd do with an invitation from my _dear_ brother?" he retorted to Nyx over my head. "Keep reading." He said, placing a kiss on the top of my head.

This time the greeting was amended: _Persephone, I hope this reaches you well, regardless of your, situation, shall we say. I know that the past few months have been difficult for you and your mother, so to honor and congratulate you both, Hera and I have decided to hold a more official reception of your marriage._

_It is to take place in three days time, with your consent of course. If I don't hear from you in one day I will send another invitation in hopes that it will not meet the same fiery end as this one. _

_Zeus_

"That's really informal isn't it?" I wondered aloud.

"It's as close to asking permission as he'll ever get. That isn't an invitation really, he just wants to make sure the namesake of the party will show up again," Nyx commented dryly.

"…Congratulate you both…" Hades said, mostly to himself. "…Completely ignored _me _the _husband…_He still hasn't gotten over the nose incident," he mumbled darkly.

"Nose incident?" I asked turning to look up at his face.

"What are you going to tell him?" he dodged.

I made a mental note to ask about it later, "Do you want to go?" I asked. Hades gave me a look that told me I already knew the answer. "I'll take that as a no then." I said. He grimaced and I tossed a pointed look at him and traipsed over to Nyx and in my best sympathy eliciting plea, complete with heart-broken watery eyes, I cried "Nyx did you hear? I have no one to accompany me to my own reconciliation."

Her face was astonished as she exclaimed at Hades, "No!"

I sniffed, "Mm-hmm, It's true." I theatrically closed my eyes as I rested my head on her shoulder, except her small frame made her shoulders about a foot too low for me, "He doesn't seem to want me…"

Hades said something under his breath I didn't quite catch.

I continued, sighing, "And now I shall be all alone. Aphrodite will have a troop of the most beautiful attendants, handfuls of starry-eyed boys; Hera will have her entourage, and Athena is so used to being solitary that it only suits her that much more—so elegant and austere," I finished in a huff, "And then there will be me, looking as if I only came for the food, staggering off to find the saddest corner of the room to settle down with my drink. As if I married my drink…"

Nyx tutted, shook her head somberly, "Such a shame."

"Unless…" I stood abruptly, "Unless _you _were my date."

She searched the room for someone else and then jabbed a slender finger at her chest mouthing, _me? _It looked so strange to see Nyx playing along with me, making exaggerated faces.

I grabbed both her hands in mine and jumped up and down in mock excitement, eyes huge, "Oh would you please?! Please go with me," I shot a look over my shoulder at Hades who looked as if he was choking on something and turning a truly alarming shade of pale.

"I would be ecstatic, no, honored, floored, no no—overjoyed," my voice rose in crescendo, "Absolutely _mad _with happiness, pleasantly surprised even—"

"Alright, I'll go!" Nyx's clear voice rang out, "You've convinced me!"

And without one parting look to Hades, Nyx and I flew out of the hall. As we swept down the hall I swore I could feel Hades' eyes boring into the back of my head. A niggling feeling crept into my stomach and I indulged the nervous impulse to smile to myself. I felt like I was initiating a chase that could only end one way, the way a wolf lets a rabbit get a head start just to make things interesting. But if I left him hanging, waiting, getting a better jump than he anticipated, he might actually get mad. What fun that could be, I thought.

My body felt incredibly light as Nyx and I sprinted and spun around the last corner before my bedroom. Airy laughter sprung from the corners of my mouth but floated away as we continued our flight past my bedroom door. My slowing had put Nyx in the lead and now she was dragging me, to places I recognized at first but after several more twists, flights of stairs, turns and slopes I was completely disoriented.

After a time I thought my feet would never touch the ground again longer than the time it took to push immediately off. We skidded to a halt, Nyx with cultivated grace and I with passable balance, in front of an unassuming stone door. She opened the door and it was as though I stepped into a place that came into existence at precisely the same moment I did. And that connection in time through chance, or maybe fate, was rewarded with an uncanny likeness in spirit as well.

At first I imagined that the other side of the doorway sat somewhere in the upper world, but I knew that nothing like this could exist up there; this was too inhumanly beautiful, too coy and shadowy to exist anywhere other than the Underworld. I had come to accept its contradictions and inverted beauty, where my sunlight and richly colored butterflies seemed pale, grown numb to the sensation of terrible and dark magnificence. The shock of eyes adjusting to a suddenly dark room had long passed, but this place shook me. I had the strangest feeling I had been here before, and that I ought to remember at the risk of being very rude to someone I likewise ought to remember. I looked at Nyx inquiringly, mouth hanging open a bit. She only smiled and said, "Come with me, there's something you should see."

"But what is this? Where are we?" I asked, whipping my head this way and that, turning quickly as I could with Nyx pulling me down a thin crystalline path. It was an indescribable room. They were all here: the beginning, the end, time, space, love, hate, war, peace, like every great character from every human epic had leapt out of their pages to gather together in one place. Each strangely unfamiliar to one another, used to fitting comfortably in their own tales, but mutually acknowledging that this is and was their source. They hovered around like vapors, primordial suggestions of form floating through the snaking jasmine that covered an arching crumbled stone ceiling. I could barely see the path it was so overgrown with tangled flowering vines that seemed to come down straight from the top of the room like rain. Looking from side to side as we went I saw suggestions of color darting through the thick foliage, I slowed to get a better look but they stayed always in my peripheral vision. Nyx's grip tightened around my hand, "Hurry, would you?"

"But you still haven't told me why we're here! What is this place, what are those things that keep flashing around, wha—?" I stopped mid sentence at about the same time Nyx stopped, whirled around and abandoned her hold on my hand. We faced a deteriorating stone artifice unlike anything I had ever seen. Its arches were shaped like an inverted tear drops, one large in the center and two smaller ones on each side, each separated by a jagged downward spike. Through these arches was a raised stone court yard surrounded by chipped brown stone pillars. I imagined the effect was to make the space feel more open, but it only exposed the space to the lush exotic growth on the outside that pushed right up to the temple, threatening to swallow it up in only a few more wet seasons. A thick floral scent wafted down the wide, uneven steps beckoning us forward.

Nyx skipped lightly up the steps, turned around and motioned for me to follow. With trepidation, I stepped past the spikes, letting my fingers trail across them as I went. They were deceptively rough looking, and when I touched them, had I not been looking right at them, I might have guessed I was running my fingers over feathers. How strange, I thought, how strange this whole place is—I have this feeling that something is hiding here, something that even Hades doesn't know about. There was one more surprise waiting when Nyx and stepped out onto the court yard: I had failed to notice, or maybe they weren't there the last time I looked, but there were dozens of pristine white marble statues positioned around the courtyard. Alarmingly life like, I supposed at first that they were shades or some odd sort of nymph but they were far too imposing; or at least some of them were. I stepped up to the nearest one, the figure of a woman about my height, standing in a proud, warrior-esque pose that made me wonder if I even had enough pride in me to evoke half such a response in the people who looked upon me. Unconsciously I lifted my chin and pulled my shoulders back. She made me feel like a small child again even though she appeared to be about my age. Her eyes were staring at some distant goal, one that I fully believed she would have reached had she not been cast in stone, and since she wasn't looking I didn't feel quite so bad for touching her well-shaped arm. I jumped back; the stone was ice cold, the warmth of my fingertips caused them to bond slightly with the frozen marble so that it stung when I snatched my hand back.

I looked accusingly back at her, and said to Nyx, "These statues are frigid but it's so warm in here…"

"Oh they aren't all like that, Athena just has a sort of cold way about her" She responded airily, waving her hand at various other figures.

I squinted back at the statue lady, scrutinized her face more closely and realized that she bore an exact resemblance to the Goddess Athena. I liked Athena, she was the wise type, stern but kind. She actually reminded me a lot of Hades: they had the same quality in their gaze, as if they were literally reading between lines and through farce, seeing the truth directly and quietly, but Hades had more edge than she did. There was intensity in Athena's eyes, the statue's eyes anyway. It's tricky: telling the difference between the model and the real thing, I thought.

Reaching up, I ran the backs of my fingers against her cheek. They were warm! Faintly, anyway—in any case they were warmer than the frozen stone of her arms. I leaned in closer and touched the corner of her mouth, and for a split instant, so briefly it seemed falsely imposed on her face, the corner of her mouth inched upward in a smirk. I blinked and it was still gone. Either I was hallucinating or there was something odd going on here. I left Athena and approached another statue.

"Nyx come here!" I yelled. I wanted her to be here in case a statue moved again. It hadn't occurred to me that she would already know about this place, but I subconsciously assumed that she wouldn't tell me even if she did. Nyx was at my side by the time I reached the statue of a wilting young man holding a lyre, with his chin angled somberly downward and his hand supported by his collarbone, seemingly in the midst of reaching around to his neck.

"Orpheus?" I asked.

"Orpheus." She said.

"He isn't a God."

"No, but he, along with Apollo, has music in him. Feel for yourself."

Curious, I firmly placed my fingers over the hand near his neck, almost expecting it to be repelled by some invisible force. Instead I felt water, but thicker, smoother, definitely running. Just under the surface it felt like music was swimming around my fingers, past my palm and down his elbow where it rejoined. For a moment I shared what filled him up. Nyx pulled my hand away, but I was still mesmerized.

"It was so sad; it's everything that's ever made me cry." I whispered.

Nyx smiled gently, "He has that effect on people. I'm sure you know the tale."

I did. We moved on to the nearest statue, Nyx had apparently figured that I wouldn't simply let this drop. The next was the figure that I was familiar with: it was lion-esque and velvety beautiful. Her hand was placed suggestively on her hip, shoulder curved conspiratorially inward. The opposite hand was motioning come-hither, and her cheekbones lifted around sultry eyes. The momentum of my curiosity was rolling and without hesitation I touched her face. "Ow!" I yelped. The marble skin was on fire.

Nyx tsked. "That's what happens when you touch love too quickly. Aphrodite is rarely gentle with the rash."

My face was torn between a smile and a frown, and an idea struck me then. I laid my hand on her face again, this time much slower, more cautiously. It felt like the plush insides of a rose petal and was overwhelmingly sweet. "I think I may enjoy the burn better, Nyx." I remarked.

She smiled knowingly, "It's different for everyone of course."

"What about you? What do you feel when you touch Aphrodite?"

"When I touch love, or when love touches me?" she asked.

"What's the difference?"

She closed her eyes and gracefully placed her hand in Aphrodite's come-hither palm. A ripple swept over her delicate frame.

"What do you feel?" I asked, and then feeling a bit outspoken I added, "If you don't mind."

Eyes popping open to reveal deep dark irises she said, "Not at all. Her skin feels like sunshine to me." That was all she said before she passed by Aphrodite and moved toward the back middle of the court. I didn't understand what her response but I followed her, puzzled at how night's love could feel like sunshine.

Nyx called out to me from the back, "The statues rearrange for each person who enters here."

"Wherever here is," I mumbled under my breath.

She continued, "And I think there's something in the middle you might be interested in seeing."

I hurried toward the sound of her voice. When I got there I noticed that there was a distinct separation between figures in the outside of the ring and those on the inside. From the corners of my vision I noticed the grand figure of Zeus, the matronly figure of my mother, whom I made a note to examine later, and even the more remote figures of Hermes, Ares, Artemis and Eros. But my breath stood absolutely still when I came upon the two figures in the center. Nyx had drifted into the background and I was aware of none but them.

Closest, but with her back toward me, was the statue of a woman. Her face was turned over her shoulder, as if she was looking for something. I circled slowly around, feeling an eerie sense of familiarity increase as I went. One arm was extended down her side, fingers relaxed and waiting; the other was bent gracefully near her chest, palm facing the opposite direction of her face. The bottom of her robe seemed to be rippling out behind her, hinting at bare feet, the way it might if she was standing on a ledge. By the time I was at her side, I was certain I knew who it was: it was like looking into a mirror that refused to look back. This statue was a perfect likeness of me. I put both hands on her—my—face and traced the outlines of my nose, cheekbones and ears. But I didn't feel a thing. Disappointed, "I don't feel anything, there's nothing there, nothing in me: no love, music, strength. Why? Why do I just feel like stone?" I cried to Nyx.

But Nyx's voice did not answer me. Instead it was a voice that sent a warm shiver down my spine: it was a woman's voice, so ancient and sweet that it seemed to transcend the range of typical voice, human and god alike. "You haven't yet realized what you are, dear Persephone. To see yourself in a mirror, there has to be a reflection."

I looked at my face again. Her eyes were closed. I slowly turned my head to look at the source of the voice, and I knew instantly why I felt I should know this place. I had seen this woman in my dreams, or at least impressions of her. "Mother" I breathed.

She laughed softly, "That is what they call me." In my dreams I suppose I never saw her as a woman, sometimes she was the bone smooth bark and pale green leaves of a willow tree. But here in front of me, she looked young, much too young to contain such an ancient voice. She was long-limbed and unusually tall, with long pearl colored hair that had baby's breath tangled down its length. Her skin was a shade of sea foam green that made her wide, shallow set blue eyes shine.

"I've seen you before…" I whispered.

She nodded. I continued, "My mother told me you were—that we all…" I struggled for a moment. "She told me that you were the mother of us all. But if that's true, then why are you hiding down here?"

"I am called Gaia, and I know your mother," she gave me a wry sort of smile at this. "The age of my power has long since passed, my place is here now."

"I've been meaning to ask, since Nyx never seems to give me a direct answer, what is _here_, um, exactly?"

Her old soul seemed to peek through her smile, revealing the well used resolution of frustration at not being able to share the things she knew. I imagined I wouldn't get the answer I wanted from her either. She was present, and even responsible for the beginning of all things, and accordingly I presumed the possibility that I would get a simple answer was slim. She sighed and I knew I was right.

"Nyx and I are guilty of the same fault, forgive our tired old minds."

I had to laugh at this, if there were two words I found least fitting for Nyx they would be "tired" and "old."

"All I can say about this place," she motioned around the room, "is that it is beyond time, and beyond space. Each being that you see represented here has a representation in your world as what you might call an element."

"Like Love," I said, "and music."

"Indeed, but fear lives here as well, and hate, and vengeance, and jealousy." Suddenly she appeared several feet to my right, indicating one of the sculptures.

"H-how…"

"There are unpleasant things as well," she commented.

The sculpture she stood in front of was a likeness of Agony, one of the beings that I had only seen pictures of in books. Gaia's hand hovered over Agony's jagged frame, "These of course, are more recent additions to my collection: human inventions." She arched her fingers and seemed to shove the sir downward. Agony's statue crashed to its knees, hands clutching its frail chest, it face contorted and mouth drawn back in a silent wail.

I rushed over to it, "What did you do!"

She gazed down at me, trying to decide something. "Was I wrong?" she asked, narrowing her gaze.

She wasn't menacing but there was something behind her question. I didn't answer.

"Tell me Persephone, how do you make agony well? How do you resolve its pain?" she asked again.

"One cannot resolve the essence of agony," I clenched my fists, "but that doesn't mean one should send it further into itself—into agony."

Gaia smiled again, it did not make me feel any better, "Persephone these elements do not exist independent of each other. They may be statues here, but their dramas play out on your stage, anything but isolated."

Nyx startled me from my thoughts by leaning out suddenly from behind Ares' mighty sculpture, swinging lightly around using his bulging bicep to hang on to. "You understand this better than you know."

I turned back around to Gaia and Agony, but instead of Agony, there was a sculpture that I thought at first was an extremely warped tree trunk. To my immense shock, it was a sculpture of Discord in the thorny vine prison I had made for her to wear. "What then do you make of this?" she asked me.

I was nonplussed, "It is her punishment" I said simply.

"Are they different?" she watched me closely.

"Yes they are. By the nature of her being she wronged me, and by the nature of mine I wronged her. But you are a mother, a protector!"

A gleam came into her eyes, "You are half right!"

I was taken aback by the surge of energy she displayed. Her dignified reserve seemed to wash away as she ushered me toward another sculpture. "Close your eyes," she commanded. She led me to a sculpture, took my hands and said, "Prepare yourself, dear Persephone."

"For what?" I asked blindly. She didn't answer; she just placed my hands on the statue's face.

The instant my fingers made contact with the stone I felt my knees buckle and my head fall back but my hands were still firmly upon the face of the statue. I sucked my breath in hard as candlelight gold exploded behind my eyes, making me feel like I had opened them as wide as they would go—and it was warm, so warm that it started to burn and burn furiously. I felt like I was dying, like everything around me had faded to nothing and for the rest of time I wanted nothing more than to be consumed by this burning. My longing for it ran deeper and deeper until the gold melted through dusky lilac and violet into midnight blue and then black. Still I clung, without the heat I felt a euphoric cool. I had melted into ecstasy and was now revived; however inexorably connected I was to the stone my fingers were grasping for.

I had to open my eyes. I panicked, wanting to cut this feeling off, knowing intrinsically that if I let it come to its full height that I would never in my life experience anything that perfect again. I reached for the surface, and gradually, like feather light streams of gauze lifting off blind eyes, I rose.

I wrenched my hands free from the face and fell backwards onto the courtyard floor, heaving for breath. "What…" I panted, "…was that?"

Nyx helped me up and said, "See for yourself."

I looked to Gaia, who merely nodded. Cautiously, I stepped up to the towering figure that looked dark despite being made of pure white marble.

"Oh…" I whispered. The sculpture's head was inclined, looking slightly downward, and its left arm was away from his body, held strong but bent at the elbow, palm facing into the direction he was looking. The sculpture was an impeccably realistic portrait of Hades himself. His expression was stern but not cold, austere but not cruel, there was tension in his brow but no snarl on his mouth. I wanted to press my lips to the marble of his face, but had no idea what would happen if I did.

"He's beautiful" I said to no one in particular, "It's heartbreaking, even as a statue…" Then I noticed something looking back and forth between the statue of me and the statue of Hades: the palm Hades had facing inward was the opposite of the one my statue was holding up, and if he was to stand behind me…

Gaia and Nyx watched as I wedged myself into the open arm of the sculpture. Holding my breath, I let my hand graze his palm quickly, expecting exploding stars and shooting flames. When nothing happened, I matched our palms and looked over my shoulder to see his face, my fingers relaxed and waited. This time there were stars. Light shot from our joined palms and washed the entire courtyard in brilliant white and as it died down it left stars: shimmering little lights suspended in the air, and then they faded too. "What does that mean?" I asked, stepping slowly out from Hades' and throwing him an incredulous glance.

"You've got a reflection." Said Gaia, "…so now you have to go."

"Well what does that m—wait, what? Now I have to go?"

"Yes, I think you'll be surprised at how late it is once you return, if my guess is correct, Nyx?"

Nyx nodded, "Very late actually." She steered me toward the arches at the front of the courtyard and I walked with her, mouth opening and closing like a fish with something to say and no words to say it with. "But—why—when…" I stuttered. I broke from Nyx and sprinted back through the sculptures, hoping Gaia would still be there. I nearly ran headlong into her somewhere around the statue of Artemis, her grip on my forearms steadied me but she didn't remove it once I had my balance. Her pale blue-green hands looked strange holding my own white-ish skin. She said, "You see, you were half right: yes by your nature you punish, but by your nature you protect as well!"

Still confused, I quelled my other questions for now, "But how can I balance both?"

She grinned, "That's what you have to figure out. Now go! You have a power struggle to get back to." She winked at me.

I gaped like a fish again, "But will I ever be able to find this place again?"

Her face slowly fell into an expression of sadness, "If you need it you can, just wait."

Hades.

Where the hell is that girl.


	29. Chapter 29

Geez, it's been just about two months...so sorry for the delay and thanks so much for being patient with me!

Special thanks to a particular contributor, you know who you are, and the rest will be coming soon I promise...Ok so this is the last stanza of "Barter" by Sara Teasdale. Enjoy. Comment. Criticize. You know, go with what you feel.

Spend all you have for loveliness,  
Buy it and never count the cost;  
For one white singing hour of peace  
Count many a year of strife well lost,  
And for a breath of ecstasy  
Give all you have been, or could be.

Chapter 29

Persephone.

I shuffled back to my room in a trance, my eyes too clouded with otherworldly things to pick my feet up. Nearly passing my doors for the second time today, I sluggishly leaned against the door and smacked madly at the latch. It gave way and I ambled in, casting glances here and there at the familiar objects in my room: fireplace, mirror, combs, rug, Hades on my bed, pillows, tapestry. Hades on my bed. I jumped almost out of my skin—certainly out of my dreaminess and landed in the present with an uncomfortable start. "Good Lord," I breathed, falling back on old habits, "You startled me."

"It wasn't my intention. Though good is up for debate," he said darkly as he stood from the bed. "Where were you today?" he asked, not bothering to veil his annoyance.

"That's direct." I shot back.

"I want to know. Where did you and Nyx go?"

"Now that doesn't make me want to tell you anything," I frowned.

"Then you are mistaken in thinking that I wish to persuade you. You will tell me where you went."

"Well," I hedged, swinging around one of the giant bed posts to face him, "That depends."

"On?"

"Where you will be in two day's time."

"I fail to see the significance," Hades said, crossing his arms firmly over his chest.

I continued lightly on, "There are two, options, shall we say,"

"The first?" He was growing impatient I could tell.

"If you say you will not attend the festivities with me, I will say that Nyx and I spent the evening in the company of some very friendly satyrs."

"And if I don't believe you?"

I pretended I hadn't heard him, "Did you know that goats have a technique called mouthing? You see, what they do is put their lips on things, to see if it's something they'd like to eat. Mouths and tongues too, of course."

Hades' lip edged up into a snarl as if he smelled something very foul.

I nodded vehemently, asserting the obvious truth of my words, "Mm-hmm, they're very sensitive." I puckered my lips and made a wet smacking sound.

"And the second option?" Hades asked, not looking at all amused, "If I say I'll go you will tell me some other ridiculousness?"

"How do you know the first isn't true?" I countered.

He cocked a suspicious eyebrow, "What if _none_ of that nonsense suits me?"

I raised a knee to the bed and crawled across, right up to him. I faced him and I was still just under his height. I leaned slowly in, cupping the side of his face, tracing the sharp line of his cheekbone and placing a small kiss on his unresponsive lips. Abruptly he turned from me, "That won't work Persephone" he said sternly.

Not to be discouraged, I inched farther forward, rested my hands on Hades' broad shoulders and breathed my carefully chosen words on the back of his neck, "Darling, you were mistaken in thinking you had a third option." It sounded vaguely sinister, a foreign sound to my ears.

Hades opened his mouth to interrupt, but I tangled my fingers in his hair and violently pulled his head backwards, constricting whatever words were waiting in his throat. "Well, I suppose you were mistaken in thinking you had even two options" I said seriously.

I let go with one arm and wrapped it around his chest, keeping the other arm firm. I heard his breath hitch and recover in surprise though it remained quick. "And while you are so busy not talking; I'll explain that even if I wanted to tell you where I was tonight, I don't think I could. Besides," I continued sweetly, "I don't think that would be a fair trade, and I've heard you like things fair," I whispered so close to his ear that he probably felt the words before he understood their meaning.

"This would not be the first time I have been called unjust, love." His voice had a hard metallic edge, which should have been a warning to me. "And I don't think you are at all incapable of telling me where you were." The metallic edge flashed like a razor, and with a quick burst of energy he flung my arms away from him, turned around and recaptured them in an iron grip. His hair was mussed from my grip and it hung just over his inhumanly chilling eyes.

"Are you calling me a liar?" I spat.

He let out a low, fierce growl, heaved me off the bed and drove me into the nearest wall. My back hit with a dull thump, I ducked my head to avoid hitting my skull on the stone, but he seized my chin, forcing our eyes to collide and lock in hard on one another. A wordless, fevered heat built between us: a flame fanned by our closeness and a tension fueled by fiery anger. Conflicting courses of action burned potential images in my head, making the searing silence unbearable. His hands still gripped my arms unyieldingly, making deep impressions in my flesh. From his imposing height he angled his head down to me; his dark hair fell against my face.

"Yes." He pronounced the word hard, though pointed at the wall, purposefully distant from my cheek. The force of the word was not lost on me, however. I felt the weightiness of accusation in his voice and I found myself objecting not to his accusation but to his need to know. Fury flushed my veins free of sense; it ran smooth, thick and sulfurous like the dense smoke of Tartarus. With an upward thrust I threw his hands off me and unrestrained I shoved him, "Am I not Queen of the Underworld?" I bellowed imperiously.

He fell several paces back and the sudden space between us was dizzying, like being thrown wet directly into a cold gust. It cleared my head a bit, after the raging fever, but I suddenly ached for the invasive heat and the pressure of Hades nearness.

"And am I not its King?" he roared louder still, balance flawless as he recovered.

"What good is a king without a queen?" I scoffed. Garnering all the strength of presence I could, I advanced on him. "But I was never supposed to be your equal, was I? How could I, me, poor _inexperienced_ Persephone, married to a god who's had eons of time and _practice_ to perfect his skills, ever hope to have her husband look at her from anywhere but down his nose." Beautiful though it is, I thought to myself. But there was no way I was going to let that slip, not when I meant what I said and not when this realization was beginning to dawn on Hades' face.

"You will keep secrets from me then?" Hades demanded venomously. His inflection was not that of a question. Instead it rang out in challenge and he stood, like a bound river raging against a weakening conduit, fists clenched and jaw set, primal force barely repressed by years of taming patience. Dizzying anticipation swirled in my gut. I knew my answer would most likely snap the last shaky lock on his practiced self-mastery. The muscular twitch in his jaw confirmed my thoughts, but then I saw something much more startling.

Through the fierce austerity and aggression in his posture, somewhere between the honest black anger at my refusal and the taunting curiosity at my display, there was a stunning flare of life and hunger. I saw it in his sweeping appraisal of my body, the unmasked wanting and waiting; I saw the resuscitated feeling of action shiver through his arms and legs, like a predator licking his lips. Flexing muscles that had atrophied due to a well established reputation for merciless and unfeeling elimination of any opposition, he was preparing for battle. And I was secretly thrilled to find that I too, was preparing for an entanglement. It was like some sort of test I had passed, that I could rightly be sovereign because my reflexes were working properly: my pulse was quickening, and my mind was racing, though I wished that through the tempestuous montage I could decipher which of the carnal, violent, grasping, falling-through-flames visions were the result of the argument or some other dark expectation.

Hades' gaze was still fastened on mine, waiting for my answer, the trigger. The tightness and tension between us made my nerves crackle to a breaking point. Determined to catch him off guard, I ran and at the last second leapt at him and we both crashed to the ground. Hades hit the floor first, knocked flat on his back and I straddled his chest, ignoring the stinging pain in my knees from landing on the hearth rug. Heat from the fireplace rushed over us, and its warm light blazed so that Hades' face was suddenly illuminated. I leaned down, grabbed his jaw and forced his head sideways in order for him to better hear me.

"I will keep whatever I like from you. Some things in this place will be mine. Only mine," I growled.

I only saw the profile of his smirk, and quicker than my eye could perceive, I was flipped over and it was my back on the floor. I tried to protest, but the wind was knocked out of my lungs so all I could do was open and close my mouth, gasping for breath.

He flashed his sharp teeth at me, "Everything in my kingdom belongs to me, so there is nothing I can be denied. Least of all from the queen." He traced the edges of my lips and suddenly it wasn't him I was fighting, it was my own traitorous body, straining to keep my mouth firmly closed. He sighed lightly to himself, "So exquisite," and his fingers trailed down my neck to the line of my collarbone and he paid such close attention to each inch of skin he passed over that I felt a blush skim across my cheeks. I was losing fast. I struggled under him, making futile attempts to free myself but his attention snapped back and his hands flew to my wrists. I pushed down hard as he pulled up, "Hades," I croaked, my voice strained with the effort of keeping my arms safely by my sides. He just scowled down at me, as if scolding a misbehaving child, and slowly his strength overcame mine, stretching my arms over my head as he continued to hold on.

A plan occurred to me, it was a bit of a long shot and I wasn't sure if it would work, but as he gripped my arms I fluttered my eyes closed, submitting myself to him. Something flicked across his gaze. It might have been confusion; I hoped it wasn't suspicion. He dipped his head and took a kiss from me. I could almost taste the disappointment on his tongue as it brushed past mine: that I would give up so easily.

I chose that moment to take advantage of his underestimation, and as he sank lower against me I bit down hard on his lip. His grip immediately released and I flung my arms down and threw him off me. I lunged forward to stand, but Hades was incredibly agile—he twisted to his stomach, reached and snatched my arm before I could get away. Plunged back downward by the sudden change momentum, I spun so that as I landed Hades arm was twisted behind him, with my knee driving into the small of his back. I allowed myself a victorious smirk and said, "I will have my place in this kingdom and it will be at your side not below you, and your place will be at my side not above me."

His response was muffled by the rug, but I heard him protest, "But where did you go?"

I put more weight on my knee and pressed his arm higher, "Where will you be in two days?"

He responded this time with pointed silence. Again I forced his arm higher and drove my knee harder into his back. He winced and grumbled something unintelligible.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite understand that. Where will you be? Maybe louder this time, it is difficult to hear from up here." I drawled, enjoying myself immensely.

He lifted his head as far as he could and said in a low hiss, "By your side."

"And am I not Queen of the Underworld? Is that not my title?"

I could feel his growl as it resonated darkly through his back.

"Then I will rule here as I please, including, no especially, the king." I said, unable to hide the triumph in my voice. I eased my hold on his arm, leaned forward and placed a warm kiss at the nape of his neck.

But I didn't notice his other arm snake around to seize the outside of my waist. I was pulled into a spinning tumble to the floor as he shot out from under me, but his strong hands caught me in a close cradle, holding me just off the ground, his body covering mine. My arms slid around his neck. He gave me one of his rare, sinister grins, "Then please tell me, my Queen; how might I serve you better?"

A/N: I might write a more extended version of this scene if there's any interest...so if you'd like to read it just message me and I'll bang it out (so to speak, wink wink) and send it to you...


	30. Chapter 30

Poem comes from the last bits of Lord Byron's "Darkness"

This is the first bit of the last chapter; I'll be adding to it as it comes, I think.

The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,  
The moon, their mistress, had expir'd before;  
The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air,  
And the clouds perish'd; Darkness had no need  
Of aid from them--She was the Universe.

Chapter 30

I woke with the sudden and steadfast conviction that I had died in my sleep. Sitting bolt upright, torso thrust violently into the burning thickness of reality, my eyes were slow to catch on to the absence of ghoulish shadows and white-barked trees. There were hours before dawn. My still throbbing heart pumped viscous blood to my eardrums blocking out the would-be reassuring sound of Hades breathing next to me. Blood, breath. Things exclusive to the living. The spell of indeterminate nightmare was broken as I quickly turned to see my husband lying beside me, obeying his brother for the time being.

I had not been myself for months. Accordingly, the exhaustion I felt pulled me down a thousand times as hard until I heaved a peaceful sigh and was lost again.

I awoke, for the second time that morning, with more confidence. And this time I was not alone. The delicate space of the morning started with contact: a touch, a kiss, the matching of bodies in wrinkled sheets; I waited to feel which would come first, and as I rolled clumsily onto my other side, Hades' uncharacteristically eager lips met mine. His skin was always a catalyst and every touch sparked something strangely and independently alive—this time memories from last night floated lazily under my eyelids. I wondered if he could feel it too; if I touched his eyes, would my fingers detect the thoughts underneath like those quick movements during sleep. With a gentle, "mm," I broke the kiss and licked my lips. Hades smirked wickedly back at me and I knew he was remembering the same things I was: brief flashbacks of searching mouths and desperate, grasping hands and fingers, tangled limbs…thoughtless promises.

"Good morning," I said.

"Good morning." He said.

We stared at each other. Less than swirling, taxingly significant eye contact; more than passionless, recognitionless glances, we fell between. Adoringly, restrainedly, plainly, and with the knowledge of the stretches of forever, I looked at him and he looked at me, and each was all the other saw. We sparkled and crackled in the same strange way stars do—without the faintest suggestion of fatigue, without even the idea of what it is to burn out, die out.


End file.
